Monsters and Performers: A Harley Quinn origins
by Sanuraka
Summary: She's always had a destiny but she fights it. She has to be more, she has to be stronger than the will of darkness. She wants to understand it and know why. She's running to something but she can't imagine what's waiting for her. He has the key to her future but she'll have to earn it she'll have to prove that she's ready for his world. That its hers too
1. Somewhere over the B&W rainbow

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or the universe in which suicide squad, batman, or anything else of the DC universe exist in. these are the property of DC and Warner bros.

Monsters and Performers.

Chapter one - Somewhere over the black and white rainbow

The clouds were fluffy.

Harley had her head against the glass, the only part of her that wasn't strapped down to something. She was staring out into the afternoon sky, she decided that the clouds were fluffy from so close and longed to stick her hand out there and run her fingers through them, it was probably like going through fog, where the only thing that was clear was right in front of you, everything else just mist.

 _Looney toon._ Her mind chided and she grinned.

So what? The looney toons were fun, besides she wasn't really a looney toon, she just acted it really, really well.

Okay, so yes she was crazy, you try surviving that much shock therapy and then a quick dip in the chemical bath and come out looking like a million bucks.

Then again, crazy was such a relative term.

So many flavors of crazy, sociopath, psychopath, maniacs, disorders, the list went on and on.

Honestly, compared to the normal people who insisted they were sane, she was perfectly in her right mind.

Now which one of those minds was the bigger question.

No one understood that, even her puddin missed the mark from time to time. Staring at her with a raised eyebrow and a look that said, _really, you're going there._

It wasn't that she heard voices in the traditional sense, the text book version of schizophrenia, no what her situation was, well she considered it an evolution of sorts.

It was like, all these different versions of herself suddenly merged together and they shared a single body.

Hers.

Most of the voices were her own, just different sides.

One or two weren't but they were so closely connected to her, they held the same honor. Well, most of them did.

" _You know I wouldn't let you die, don't you baby doll?"_ Her puddin's voice whispers in her ear and she smiles wider.

"Of course not." She says, startling the guards who are seated around her.

The government has paid a lot of money to relocate her.

This is the third flight they've taken, a private jet. Small, domestic airports. Landing strips. Making sure that no one knows where they're taking her.

She hasn't thought that far ahead, she's still recovering from the knock to the back of the head.

It was the guard's fault, he wanted to watch her use the toilet. It was unbecoming of a lady.

 _You aren't a lady._ One of her voices scolds. It sounds a little bit like her mother, that stern, disapproving scold that she never liked. Her thoughts are blurry when it comes to her actual mother, not because she can't remember her, more because she doesn't want to.

 _I am a lady, actually I'm more than a lady, I'm royalty._

 _Royalty? You're a whore and a criminal, a murderer and thief. That's the things you are._

 _I'm a royal of crime mommy. Daddy was a criminal, just a common criminal but my puddin made me a queen._

It was almost the perfect fairy tale, she was just the common girl, a psychiatrist, the daughter of a second rate con artist and a struggling mother, a dead beat brother who still doesn't worry about his kids and her Joker had whisked her away from it all and given her an empire to play in, he'd given her a whole world of fun.

To him she was the princess, the queen, royal by something far deeper than blood.

Her soul.

 _I'm ashamed that you're my child._ Her mother's voice whispers and Harley laughs at that.

Her mother couldn't even look at her during her first trial, she was sobbing, horror stricken by what had happened to her.

How pale her skin was, her hair bleached, the crazy look in her blue eyes. The fact she was wearing this stupid orange jumpsuit, like anyone looks good in this color orange.

Her brother as always looked disinterested. Though he'd actually dressed up for her trial, his eyes held that emptiness in them, he'd given up on life before he ever had the chance.

He disgusted her.

Still, until her last encounter with batman, when he'd pulled her out of the water, stuck her in that car and driven her away, she'd been covering his child support. She'd buy her niece and nephew the things they needed even as what she was now.

Her puddin knew but never stopped her, just shook his head and went back to planning as she packed up a box to be delivered to the house where her niece lived. Or came in with a new outfit for her nephew's first day of school.

The sad thing was, their mothers had her on speed dial and not her brother.

 _What ya think of that mommy, I'm a monster and your grandchildren love me more than they love their own daddy._

 _Your projecting._

Another voice, more analytical, one of her own.

 _So?_

 _It's not good for us._

 _It doesn't matter, good for us never helped us._

"Quinn, you hungry?" The lead guard beside her asks and she turns, a bright, cheerful smile on her face.

"Oooo, what's for dinner?"

"You get a sandwich." He tells her coolly and she pouts.

"What, no lobster? I'd even go for a pizza."

"Sorry princess, we don't cater here." he says and gets up.

It isn't the first jab at her, they've been poking fun about her titles since they heard it from the commissioner of police.

That guy just needed to stay out of her business.

Conspiring with the bat to get her out of the city, secretly, hushed, making sure no one knew. No one in the police department who could be paid off. No reporters, nothing.

No one knew what happened to her.

She wasn't even going to get a trial this time, terrorist.

That was her new title.

Terrorist.

Terrorists didn't get played with the same, no insanity plea. No Arkham asylum or other place like that, no deals.

This was new to her, this was something completely different.

The bat had watched, stood there while they strapped her in, the ultimate precaution against her skill.

She still remembered what he said to her before they boarded her onto the plane.

" _You had a chance to walk away Quinn, you left us no choice."_

" _My puddin will get you batsy." she'd purred with a seductive smile. "He'll rain down hell and fire for taking me away."_

" _He left you to die Harleen, I don't think he cares."_

" _You're wrong bat, you just don't know how wrong you are."_

" _It doesn't matter, even if he does come. We're even, he took something important from me, I'm taking something from him."_

 _She laughed at him._

" _Still feeling so sore about sweet little Robin? Well batsy, that's on you. Own that yourself. You brought a child into the game, what did you think was going to happen?"_

 _She'd spoken with such venom in her voice, such hate. What had he honestly expected?_

" _Goodbye Harleen." He said then walked away from her._

" _It's Harley you jerk."_

She wondered what the bat would do now. Did he just not care anymore?

Loss could do crazy things to you.

Crazy, crazy things.

"Quinn open up." the guard said, coming back with a sandwich.

She wrinkled her nose at it, it wasn't even fresh bread.

"What's that?"

"A sandwich, look, there is even lettuces in it."

"I'm not eatin that shit, that's not a sandwich."

"Well it's all your getting till we get you home."

"Speaking of home, we're taking an awfully long time getting to Gotham, I mean, I hate to be ungrateful but you know, I've got things planned. I have a hair appointment, then I had a dinner party to plan and oh there was the bank heist on Tuesday."

He smirks at her, shaking his head.

"Oh, you can forget about Gotham."

"Oh, well, where ya taking me?" she bats her eyelashes at him.

"Sunshine, if I told you that then I'd get into trouble. The last thing anyone wants is for you to get out of those restraints and go call your boyfriend, the point is to get you away from that crazy clown."

"Crazy clown prince." she corrected. "Show some respect."

"Crazy bitch." He mutters under his breath and she laughs loudly into his face.

The rest of the flight is spent in silence, she doesn't eat the sandwich and her stomach is complaining the missed meal.

She wishes she could have some strawberries right now, with some chocolate syrup and cream. She grins at the memory of the treat, a very fun treat.

She's bored already, she had more fun at Blackgate than here.

 _You sound like your father._

 _No, I don't. He's dead, I'm not._

 _You nearly were. He left you to drown._

 _So?_

 _Doesn't that bother you at all?_

She thought about this, sticking her tongue out dramatically and looking out the window.

 _Maybe, a little but he would never let me drown._

 _You can't even say his name. Puddin? Mr J? You're scared of him._

 _No I'm not._

 _Then say it, say his name._

 _The Joker, his name is Joker._

 _He'll find someone new._

 _Never._

 _What makes you so sure, you don't know._

 _I do know, he'll never find someone like me._

 _He'll make someone new._

 _You can't remake Harley Quinn._

 _Your name is Harleen Quinzel. Not Harley Quinn._

 _No, my name is Harley Quinn, it's been that for longer than my birth._

 _That's not the name I gave you, I named you Harleen._

 _It's the name I gave me. You wanted me to be someone, well I am now aren't I mummy?_

" _You have to fight this Harleen, you have to be more than what he's tried to do to you."_ she remembers what her mother said to her after the Joker had tortured her, unlocked the compartments of her mind and started the process to freeing her from her past, from that life, the life that wasn't meant for her.

Her mother couldn't understand, no one could. She had wanted all of this, she had wanted this life, at his side, in his world and not just because she was an addict and he was her drug.

It was for herself.

 _It's cost you everything, you gambled your whole life away for a lunatic who left you to die._

He hadn't though, the bat saved her, he wouldn't have let her die. Her puddin knew that, he would always save her. He was a hero, that's what they did.

The guards suddenly shut her window, all of them, the interior of the plane darkens and they all start moving.

She's missed a queue.

Someone blindfolds her, another puts a gag over her mouth. Thre people grab her arm which is still strapped down and carefully release it, slipping on a sleeve of a shirt, only backwards. The rest of her is still on her chair, strapped in, they get her other arm and repeat the process. Crossing her arms in front of her and she understands. A straight jacket.

She feels the pressure drop and it clicks.

They're landing.

 _Oh goody, maybe they're taking another fuel break._

Part of her wonders if they're taking her overseas.

That actually would be a smart idea, the Joker's influence didn't outstretch that far so easily.

It would cost more, it would mean reaching out to people the joker had on a short list. Her puddin, wasn't the most social of characters.

She had complete faith in him though, utterly convinced that no matter where they put her, he'd find her. That was her puddin, her hero, her savior, her king.

 _You're a fool._

 _So are you._

 _These are government agents, they won't put you somewhere where he can find you._

 _You heard the bat Harley, he wants the Joker to suffer._

 _Mr J will be stronger than that._

 _He needs you, he depends on you too much. You've made yourself too big a part of him._

 _That's a bad thing?_

 _It is now._

Harley feels her ears pop, she laughs from behind her gag and imagines that they're all staring at her like she's missing too many screws.

It's better that way, for them to think she's just a crazy girl, it's the mask she needs to play now, if she doesn't she might break down and that isn't an option.

She doesn't trust them, she can't. In her experience the ones who call themselves good guys, tend to make bad guys look decent.

Someone puts headphones on her, with blaring music. Her head bounces to the beat but she's convinced now, they're messing with her, this has got to be a joke. Soon, someone is going to pull of the restraints and her puddin will laugh at her expense and it'll be funnyy.

But he doesn't.

The plane lands and there is a very long pause, the only sound she can hear is the sound of the music.

 _Paranoid, aren't they?_

She counts to five hundred and they start to move her. She feels the vibrations of their footsteps through the chair, at least ten guards.

Easy.

A ramp, they're rolling her down a ramp now and more people, more vibrations. Her skin tingles, it's cool outside, not cold, just cool, a breeze and the smell of water. Strange, where are they?

Are they changing planes again?

No, another transport.

They're picking her up, chair and all, she wants to get away but they have several of them holding her down.

She starts to laugh harder, the sound muffled by the restraint covering her lips.

Harley tenses whens he feels someone's hand on her shoulder, squeezing throught he material to make a silent threat. Behave girl.

She feels others climbing aboard her ride, six of them.

Do they not realize she can get out of this thing?

The door is closed with a heavy thud and the guards go through the process of locking her down. Her legs, her shoulders, her waist.

A car seat had less safety features.

They start to move but no one releases her eyes, ears or mouth.

It's funny.

See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.

Ha! she gets the joke.

The music keeps playing and she wonders where they get this stuff, it's loud in her ears.

She's analyzing it in her head, they want to make sure she has no idea where she is. The problem is, there are better, easier ways to let your loved ones know where you are than trying to memorize a route.

Finally, someone removes the gag, the headphones and the blind fold. She finds herself in a dim almost dark square.

A truck, they're in a transport vehicle.

Straight jacket, restraints, padding, no weapons near her body. All the guards in SWAT uniform. They're all holding their guns in their hands, twitching to pull the trigger at her. Except for one of them.

He's staring at her, his eyes focused on her face and no where else. She blows him a kiss and he flinches and looks away.

He's from Gotham, he has to be. No one else knows the penalty for staring at her for so long. Amusing, she loves it. Even like this, on her way to a cell that's so far away from her home, her life. Her mere presence has the power to strike fear into a young man soul.

He wants to look but her puddin's ghost is haunting her, haunting this truck and only the Gotham man can hear his laugh, feel the tension as he smiles at him.

"What's a boy like you doing with these guys?' she asks cheerfully.

He jumps a little, too small a thing for the others to notice but she does, he's close, only a seat away from her. He sat across from her on the plane and she didn't miss the way he secretly studied her body.

He doesn't respond and she laughs. Letting her head fall back against the side of the moving prison and she closes her eyes for just a second. Her mind remembering the last few days.

No Arkham, no Blackgate.

Nowhere, they said they were taking her nowhere.

No trial in Gotham, no lawyer by her side, dirty, smart, paid handsomely to keep her out of Blackgate and in Arkham where she can easily be extracted. Where the guards know better than to stop him when he comes for her. They know them both too well, they'll loose their lives, they don't want that. They'll keep her, they won't set her free but when it happens, they just step away.

She isn't going to be there when he comes, what will he do? What will her puddin think when he finds out that the bat didn't play by the script?

"Hey you're a guy right?" She throws the question to the man from Gotham

He regards her but still says nothing.

"How would you react if your girlfriend wasn't where she was supposed to be after a long weekend?"

He frowns at her, not getting what she's talking about.

She watches him carefully, gauging his reaction time, he's quick enough, damn, she was hoping he'd be slower, she can manipulate slower guys a lot quicker.

"He won't find you there, he'll probably be mad." He tells her dryly. "Though, knowing your boyfriend, it's a good thing I'm not going back to Gotham"

Harley rolls her head to the side and giggles even louder.

Yeah, he's right, her puddin will light the sky with flames and clouds of green and pink gas when he figures out she's not in Gotham

The queen of Gotham city, the Clown princess of crime has left the building.

 _And I didn't even get to say a goodbye speech._ She pouts to herself and turns her head, looking out the tiny little holes, wondering where the hell they're going with her.

Heroes have it easy, they don't have to worry about SWAT teams and going to jail.

They get a nice get out of jail free card.

What do villains get?

Bad guys get jail time and all their dreams taken away from them.

It's part of the balance thing, good verses bad. That's what they try to say anyway but it's not like that at all.

They'll never understand.

Their minds can't cope with how their world really is.

Their world. The Joker's world.

It was as much her world as it was his, always had been. It had just taken him to enter her life to make her realize it.

There was a time, when she believed that she could escape it, when she thought she could find a place outside of it but she'd been running from destiny, fate, herself.

She had always been Harley Quinn, she'd just been too afraid to accept it.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

A/N Hi everyone, this is my second fan fic and is connected to my first story. Chaos. You can read both seperately but I'd love it if you read both, up to you guys. So I know this is an origins story but I wanted to start at a stimulating place in the movie that obviously doesn't exist. Hope you guys like.

For all of you who've followed from chaos, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the new ride. For allt he new people, welcome to the mad house and please leave your comments, your favs and follows if you like the story. It helps me write faster. I'm not going to update this one as quickly as the other one, just cause Chaos is my main focus but I think I'll be updating this one every three days, instead of every two. So keep an eye out. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.

See ya laters.


	2. Parallel

A/N If you'd like you may want to pull these three songs in order, trust me, you'll know when to play them. House of the rising sun, original version, Into you by Ariana Grande, then Let me entertain you by Robbie Williams. Yes some of these are older but I promise, worth the listen while you're reading.

Chapter two – Parallel

5 AM

The city is quiet, quieter than it's been in a long time. It's appropriate, though a city like Gotham never sleeps, not really. Yet this is the quietest moment, the sun still waiting behind the darkness, the moon has lost its hold on the night stalkers of the city.

The perfect time, the only time. To tempt fate.

"He's ready to roll, sir." A guard calls as he walks out of the cell. "He still ain't talking."

"Well I wouldn't expect him to talk." Commissioner Gordon stares at the cage where the clown resides. "He's probably not used to the teeth yet."

The guard grins and nods in agreement. Gordon watches him walk away, talking into his two way, relaying codes and overseeing security.

"I don't like this." A deep, guttural voice speaks from the shadows. "He's gotten out before."

"It's different now." Gordon turns, unfazed by the sudden appearance of the batman, years have given him the immunity to the sudden appearance and disappearance of the man. "Arkham is updated, new security, computerized."

"Computers can be hacked."

"Not these, not that easily. We've asked for help from the federal government, they've lent us some of their best hackers to build this system."

The vigilante only stared at him doubtfully.

"There is still human error to contest with." He replies darkly. "This isn't the old days, when all he cared about was blowing the place up. He's gotten comfortable, he has influence now, money, those things go a long way."

"The guards in his section won't be so easily swayed. Arkham has hired current military soldiers. They're getting paid handsomely for their transfer and they're men of honor, they've been run through every psychological test we can think of, they're young, they're healthy and I'm told most of them have special ops training."

"It only takes one." The bat warns. "He's done it before, for all his insanity, we both know he can be patient."

"Everyone who comes near him has to be screened, even the person who cleans the cells."

Batman glances at the cell. "I still don't approve."

There is a moment of silence and Gordon holds back from his comment, under the circumstances, it's inappropriate.

 _Then you should have killed him. Because it's all we have._

Instead he says. "He can't stay here, they can't control him. He's been here for four months and he's already got everyone controlled. He rules here and that isn't the point of his incarceration. He treats this place like he owns it and to be honest with you, I'm not sure he doesn't half the time. Arkham doesn't cater to him, they can contain him, if nothing else."

"Containment isn't a solution."

"Do you have any other options?" Jim held up his hands helplessly. "Because I'm listening."

"Maybe but I'm not sure yet, consider it a suggestion for later."

"Well for now all we have is Arkham, if we're lucky they'll find a drug that will actually dope him up."

Neither said what the other was thinking.

Because there was no chance of them curing the prince of crime.

The problem was something else and they both knew it, for all their labels of crazy, the clown wasn't crazy. Not in the ways that made him manageable. He was smart, too smart for anyone's good. He lacked morality, he lacked decency and because of that theology, he believed he was more evolved than the rest, he saw them all as animals and himself as one of the only humans.

Yet the years had changed him, it had changed all of them. Himself, the batman, even the clown wasn't immune to time and Jim could dream that there would come a day when the Joker saw his grave.

Not today, not anytime soon.

The justice system was a strange complicated affair, even now when things had changed so much. He hated to admit it, it wasn't actually better.

Life sentences, no death sentence.

That a villain like him could afford such a lawyer, who not only got that removed from the table but also, got him the insanity plea.

Again.

There was a time when the Joker couldn't even afford the clothes on his back, now, he probably had more money than Jim made in a year as pocket change.

Sickeningly unbelievable, not all of the money was dirty.

The joker was a business man at heart, for all his chaos, all his crazy he could strike deals. Good ones, ones that made stock brokers cross their eyes.

That was not including the heists he performed when the market was down, his clubs, the many varieties of them. His pale bleached hands were all over Gotham, in every level of the social ladder.

Even the rich.

"You want to talk to him don't you?"

"I do."

"Okay, I'll leave you two to it then." Jim sighed.

He didn't want to be here for this, some might want to but he was in the same room with two of the most dangerous men in Gotham. He wasn't a fool, batman was just as dangerous as Joker, they were just lucky that he was on their side.

He took one more look at the Joker, who was tightly wrapped in a straight jacket, restrained and awaiting his escort.

He smiled at him, the bruises on his face from his initial imprisonment all but gone now, the silver of his teeth making him look, more threatening.

When Gordon was gone the Joker finally spoke, addressing his old _friend_.

"Come to see me off Batsy?" He leered, wishing he could get closer to the bars. "I'm touched."

"Then feel flattered, I'm coming with you." Bat growled.

Leaning his head back, Joker laughed hard. The sound echoing against the stone walls.

"You know they're going to stick you in a cell right next to mine."

"Not today." He retorted. "But I won't let your goons attempt anything, we both know they'll try."

"And we both know they'll fail." Joker agreed, grinning. "How's the little boy, your, sidekick."

"Leave him out of this."

"You know, came this close, this close to ending his little life. You know you surprise me Batsy, bringing a boy into our mix, something I need to know old friend?"

Batman said nothing and the joker laughed again.

"Getting old there? Having those thoughts about death? Well my friend let me be clear, when I get out, which I will, we both know it's going to happen. You aren't wrong, no computer system in the world is going to hold me back. When I get out I'm going to finish the job, I'm going to take a crowbar to his skull and your future, your legacy will be back to square one."

Still, the bat said nothing but he knew he was getting to him, he could see the tension in his eyes.

"And when I'm done with the boy wonder, I'll seek out the other one, your first protege, Nightwing. I'll end him too. How dare you change the game for us, weren't we having fun? Just the two of us, you bring in boys who don't have a clue."

"That's what makes you and I different Joker, I see the value in people. I see the benefits of trusting someone."

"You trust these boys to become your future? What's the matter batsy, feeling the ticking clock of time, that, oh what do women call it? Your biological clock ticking away on you. Maybe you can't have them, little rugrats to crawl around the batcave, to grow up and take on the new generation of villains. My offspring."

"You sound hypocritical." He mused. "You judge me for taking on someone, yet how many have you set into the world?"

"The difference is bat, is that I let my children go free. I don't hold them down, I create them, I give them the nourishment their little chaotic minds need and then I let them go learn for themselves."

'How's that played out for you?"

"Oh listen to us, bragging about our kids like we're in a sitcom. Questioning each others parenting skills. We must be getting old."

"I don't consider myself a parent."

"There see, that makes me a better father than you. I acknowledge mine, your poor boys. No wonder Nightwing took off, didn't get the daddy connection did he?"

"How many of yours are dead?" The bat taunted quietly.

Joker smirked. "Like I said, I let them learn their own lessons. You got to let your kids fly batman, you can't control them once they're all grown up. So a few of mine have died, sad but a risk every father takes when he brings a new life into being."

"They had a chance before you tainted them."

Joker shook his head. "No, a chance was the thing they never had. Not in that world, not in that thing you want to belong to called normal. Yes, mine may die but they die free, they die knowing who they are, what they are. If they're part of our world they should be in our world, not theirs."

"Maybe if you took the time to 'raise' one of those poor souls, they might actually succeed."

"Aw, giving me parenting tips there batsy?" Joker shook his hair out. They'd let it grow out, he could at least guarantee at Arkham, he'd get a decent haircut. Well half decent.

"No, just stating an obvious flaw in your thinking."

"What? You saying I should settle down?" He raised an eyebrow, what was left of it. "Gonna set me up with someone?"

Batman's mouth twitched sourly. "I don't think a woman like that exists and no, I think the last thing you need to do is _settle down_. Not that It will matter for a while."

"Well, maybe you aren't wrong. I sadly doubt there will ever be someone who can be at my side. I don't think even I could create such a woman."

"What, insane?"

"Oh, that just hurt." Joker grinned.

People assumed that's what he wanted, someone who was crazy and yes that was exactly what he wanted but not the sort of crazy they were thinking. He wanted smart crazy, he wanted _HIS_ sort of crazy. Wild and free, a woman who could stare him in the eyes and smile at his threats, grin at his aggression, laugh at his violence.

So far, that woman did not exist, anywhere and he'd resided that she never would.

And though he called his creations his children, he had no plans to ever actually reproduce.

Batman stepped away, back into the shadows of the corridor.

"You know, they'll eventually get you in here too. I've always said it, how many times has this city turned on you? Remember our first game batsy?"

"I remember." The shadows say, an excellent effect. "But I just don't care anymore."

Laughter fills the prison's corridors and the guards know it's time to move him.

It takes almost an hour, security check after check, scanning for his men, the ones who are obvious, the ones who aren't.

The bat in position, even Nightwing, specially flown in for the occasion.

The joker should feel flattered by all the attention but he doesn't.

Arkham, god not again. How did they expect him to do business when he was locked up in that loony bin? It was nearly impossible to get anything done with a IV full of drugs that made you stupid.

Handle him? They couldn't even approach him.

How were they going to handle him?

They moved him into the transport truck, every part of him bound, even his mouth was silenced, though poorly.

He didn't know these cops, probably hand picked by the commissioner.

It didn't matter, he'd get free, sooner better than later but he doubted Frost would be able to get this done in time.

The truth was, his men didn't know he was being moved today.

Even he hadn't known that he would be transferred.

They'd changed the schedule on him.

He wasn't due for Arkham for another year.

At least, that's what they'd said.

He sneered, should have known they were bluffing. Something else for his list.

The streets were relatively empty, the creatures of the night turning in for the ones of the day to take their turn in the game.

Six police cars escorted the truck, the batman keeping easy pace with them. Joker could hear the sound of his bike outside.

They were taking the long way, idiots.

There was a much shorter way to get to Arkham but he supposed they didn't want to risk going by his haunts, the boys would move quickly, Frost realizing what was going on the instant he saw these cops.

They passed by a residential area, mostly apartments, nothing high class but not the ghettos either, he couldn't see outside but he had an idea of where he was.

They pass a twin apartment complex, where up high on the roof of one of the buildings, there was a young woman, busy with her hands pressed against the ground and her legs high in the air. Doing a walking handstand.

Headphones in her ears, she was oblivious to the commotion downstairs, even if she'd looked, she couldn't know where they were going.

Cops were this way all the time.

She went from a handstand to a flip, once, twice, three and then stood straight, arching her back and doing a set of cartwheels across the length of the roof.

She was light, quiet and even if she thudded, the people who lived on the top floor wouldn't hear her, the concrete was thick.

Harley Quinzel was up early, earlier than most of her neighbors. Every day she was up here, doing the favor of watering the garden while she practiced.

Her only time of privacy.

Her watch started to glow and she sighed, feeling like she hadn't gotten much training in today.

She popped her neck, grabbing her things, taking a look over her shoulder.

The sun was just now rising on the horizon. Gotham was beautiful at this hour, just touching the buildings with light, a sight that could always settle her mind and give her focus for the day.

Harley made her way back down to her apartment. A one bedroom that faced the east side of the building, she lived alone, no pets, her furniture was currently all second hand. A small sofa bed, a chair, coffee table her mother had given her from the house. A TV that was about the size of a toaster. No kitchen table, just the counter and a few bar stools.

The largest things in the room were three bookshelves. One full of trophies, her glory days when everyone thought she'd be a professional gymnast, that she'd participate in the Olympics and be famous.

She looked away from that, that had never been her want, her dreams lie elsewhere. The second shelf housed books, as many as she could pack inside. All sorts, every subject.

The third was the one she lingered on, like she did most days.

Pictures, both in photo and children drawings. Her niece and nephew.

They'd spent the weekend with her, both of them. A rare treat for all of them. Their mothers didn't get along but they both trusted Harley with Jenny and Nicky, and the two half siblings didn't get the chance to interact together often.

Wasn't like Barry ever went to see his own kids.

She shook off the thoughts of her brother and walked into her bedroom.

The room was even less impressive than her living room, a double sized bed, two dressers that she'd had to bring up by herself, a nightstand and a walk in closet full of gently used clothes.

Harley wasn't exactly in the position to be filling her closet with nice new things from boutiques, though, she hoped soon that would change.

She stripped down and got changed, she'd take a shower at work.

As she changed, she noticed her answering machine was blinking angrily at her. She hadn't checked it since Friday.

Sighing she walked over to it and pressed the red button.

 _You have seven missed calls._

" _Hi Harleen, it's your mother. Thank you for taking Jenny and Nicky, I'm sure they had a great time with their dad and aunt."_

"He never even showed up." She yelled at the machine. "He was probably out with his friends drinking all weekend."

She deleted the message.

" _Hey sexy, it's Paul, I had a great time on Friday..."_

She deleted that one too.

" _Hey Harley, it's Jack, I haven't heard from you in two months, I was wondering if you were busy this weekend."_

Delete.

" _Hey, it's me. Look, I'm sorry. I just want to talk, please call me."_

She hesitated then pressed delete.

" _I'm sorry, I know I messed up."_

Delete.

" _Harley, I know you're home, please answer the phone. I'm sorry, really I am. We need to talk."_

Delete.

" _Okay, I get it, you're angry with me, I deserve that but we have to work together and I won't lie, I miss spending time with you. Please just give me a-"_

She deleted that one too, more angry at that call than the rest.

"You want to call me now? Let me guess, your girlfriend dumped you and you're after a quick tumble with Harley Quinn, well Danny, sorry this ride is closed for you. Permanently."

She grabbed her jacket from the couch and her helmet, slinging her change of clothes and wallet onto her back, the red and blue backpack extravagantly bright.

Jenny had begged her to buy it for herself.

" _It looks like the acrobats at the circus when you took us aunty Harley, please get it, the colors look so pretty on you."_

She made it to the elevator and headed for the parking lot.

All her neighbors had cars, not her, she owned her one and only splurge.

A Harley Davidson motorcycle.

She'd fallen in love with it when she'd passed the dealership and she couldn't help herself.

Her mother disapproved.

" _Harleen, a lady should not be riding around on a dangerous machine like that. It's just not, safe or proper."_

She smirked and made the joke she always made when she thought of the first time her mother saw her pull up in the thing.

 _How about I ride it side saddle then?_

"Hi baby." she said to the bike. "Lets go."

Slinging her leg over she cranked the engine, loving the feel of power as her baby came to life.

It was painted a very dark green, almost black, her favorite color, though she would have liked a lighter green, she didn't have the money to change it yet.

"Soon." she murmured and left the lot.

The roads were empty, Gotham was quiet, though she knew from experience it wouldn't stay this way for long. There was only ever a short lull in traffic.

The city of Gotham was only taking a nap.

A earbud in her left ear, her other clear so she could listen to the traffic noises, she decided to take the short way to Arkham. She'd be there early but that way she could shower and change in peace.

Instead of music, she was listening to a woman talk, teaching her how to pronounce words without the gritty, obvious accent she had.

She mentally corrected her words, pushing that part of her past down deep, she normally managed to hide it well enough but when she got mad, which that bastard would definitely do when he saw her today, well it slipped out.

She drove unafraid, picking up the speed and playing with the curbs.

She loved this, the freedom of just driving.

Her blue eyes picked up on every change, she loved racing the invisible riders who she imagined in her head.

Funny, a therapist who still had imagination.

The bridge to the Narrows was in her sights and she sped up some more, the engine purred and she laughed in delight, ignoring her audio tutor for a moment.

The bridge was the place to be fast, to let go and loose herself in the moment of speed.

It was lowered, she grinned, straight shot.

The hair that stuck out of her helmet blew wildly behind her and everything else disappeared.

Only her and the road.

Her fun was however disrupted by the sound of sirens coming up behind her.

She looked back in the mirror and saw six cop cars following her, she was going fast but not fast enough to earn that sort of attention.

Then from behind she saw the transport truck, it clicked.

New patient.

From Blackgate more than likely but something else. Right in the corner of her rear view, something black and sleek, a bike but not just any bike.

Her heart sped up, thudding in her chest and she gripped the handles tighter.

The batman.

In her time at Arkham asylum, she'd heard the vigilante visited, questioned prisoners, even made deals with a few but she'd never seen him in person, not even the bat mobile or his bike, which was steadily catching up to her.

She hit the gas and the impulse took her over.

 _What are you thinking HARLEY_ she screamed at herself.

"Hey, you have to see this, some idiot is trying to race the bat on a bike." The driver of the truck called to the back.

"Oh man, it's a chick." His passenger called, both of them laughing.

Joker mildly curious as they continued on their way.

There was no way to look outside but he knew they were on the bridge, almost there. No rescue, damn it.

Harley sped on, keeping the bike steady, the good officers of GCPD were now talking over their radios, giving Joker a fully running commentary of the apparent excitement outside.

Well at least the ride wasn't a complete waste.

"Oh, she passed him."

"Nope, he's catching up, there we go. He's overtaken her."

"God, she's crazy."

"Did you know a bike could do that?"

He wished he could see what was going on, looking at the back of the helmet the guard wore was definitely not entertaining. Watching someone racing the bat and potentially crashing, that sounded like entertainment.

"No way, she's beating him."

He's gotta be letting her win."

"No, she won. Look, she cheated."

That made Joker grin, he could appreciate cheating to win.

Harley hadn't cheated, she'd just seen a quicker way in and she'd taken it. She hadn't really been trying to race the bat and she doubted he would take the time to race her but she'd gotten so caught up in the moment, she couldn't help it.

They reached the gates of Arkham and she flashed her security badge first, she waved at the front guard who was shaking his head, laughing at her antics.

Luckily the guards were used to her flying speed.

She drove the bike to the staff parking and dismounted, adjusting her bag and running in through the employee entrance, with a new inmate showing up, there was no way she was going in through the main entrance.

The transport truck stopped and the doors were opened, guns on the Joker who'd at least managed to get out of the straight jacket during the ride.

 _Didn't tighten it enough boys._ He hissed in his head.

That didn't help the extra restraints though, those he couldn't get out of.

They lowered him out, the batman walking beside him, keeping silent.

"Hear you had yourself a little fun batsy." He said in a muffled tone, the thing over his mouth almost off.

Batman didn't answer.

"Lost to a girl." He laughed as he was dragged through the doors.

The main foyer was almost empty, only three guards who all rose from their seats, no doctors, no visitors.

They'd chosen this time for security reasons, less casualties if something went wrong.

The glass doors opened and an older man came through to greet them.

Joker sneered, Dr Stevens. The newest chief of the Elizabeth Arkham asylum for the criminally insane. successor to Dr Alyce Sinner, who was probably housed in her own little cell.

"Joker, welcome home." Stevens said dryly.

J laughed biting off the last of the thing over his mouth.

"Thanks, dad." He teased, glancing over at batman, he spoke directly to him. "He's my four step parent here."

"Funny Joker, funny." Stevens sighed. "Come on, we've got a surprise for you. Batman, I'm not supposed to let you past these doors but considering the patient, I'll make an exception."

"Aw, you get to take me to my room batsy." he laughed, letting his head fall back.

They led him to the security elevator, not the one the visitors or doctors used. Interesting, they kept the panel out of his sight, putting in codes.

So the rumors were true, they'd updated again.

"Joker, you can thank the Wayne Enterprise for the upgrades that were made, just for you." Stevens said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Joker grinned, looking at the closest guard.

"Dad doesn't like spending money on me, he thinks I'm blowing my life away on girls and booze."

The slightest twitch of a smile appeared on the young man's face but he hid it away quickly.

Ah youth, so easy to corrupt.

One, two, three, four floors.

The doors open and they're in a long polished corridor with nothing else, glass on either side, probably bullet proof and on the other side another elevator.

Waiting for him, were four guards. All of them standing at attention, no SWAT gear, revealing that they were all physically capable.

"Oh, new toys." Joker said gleefully.

"I don't think so Joker, these boys, won't be like your others. They don't play back."

"Aw, what happened to Cash? He was fun."

"Luckily for Cash, he's going to be enjoying retirement."

"Croc finally get the other limbs huh?"

They reached the guards who quickly moved to take control of him, they didn't even seem phased by anything about him. They adjusted his restraints, this time they were tight, very tight.

"He's undone his jacket." The one on his right said, glaring at the cops. "No one catch that?"

"I did." batman said roughly. "They were never in any danger."

"Only takes one mistake." the guard said disapprovingly.

"We got him from here boys." the head guard said and motioned for the other elevators. Dr Stevens smiled politely.

"I'm sorry, only personnel from this point."

"Aw, daddy, can't I have my friend come up to my room to play?" Joker said, actually managing a sincere looking pout.

"Oh, I was going to let him come up but I can't have the police up there, it upsets... the others."

One of the guards muttered something under his breath. "The bat's gonna rile them up bad."

The head guard came to face joker, crossing his arms and smiled at him.

He was tall, broader built than Joker was, dark blonde hair, almost brown, brown eyes that looked broken. Like he'd seen such horrors that you couldn't imagine, tawny skin, like a really, really good tan and a scar going across the front of his ear.

"I'm Jimmy, I'm the leader of this team, before we escort you to your room a few new rules. You mess with me, I mess with you. Second rule, I have no issue in roughing you up if you try anything stupid, you stay cool and we're all cool, third and this is probably the most important one. Dinner's at six."

Joker raised an eyebrow at Stevens.

"Where you get this one, he's fun."

"Iraq." He said simply.

Military.

"Oh dad, you got me G.I Joe's."

They didn't turn him around until a password was put into the system and then they drug him into the second elevator.

No music, nothing for him to annoy them with. He looked at the bat instead who was carefully glaring at him.

He flashed his new teeth at him.

Batman had finally gotten angry enough to do some damage, finally he'd lost a little of that control.

At the cost of his face, which he wasn't happy about but well, a fair trade he supposed.

All over a boy, all over that little boy who he'd been so close to killing.

Never mind, next time, next time.

A/N so lets get the obvious out of the way, in this story, robin is not dead, yet. I'm doing that to try and salvage the two story lines. Where Joker kills him and Harley has a hand in it. You'll see but I wanted to keep the teeth thing. Also, I know the style of the chapter is different than what you might be used to from me if you are reading chaos but I just could not help myself. I had this scene in my head and it actually played out like this, with the music and all. The rest of the chapters are going to alternate between Harley and Joker from now on. If there is a change I'll let you guys know before hand.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, I had fun writing it. Please as always review, can be one word or entire paragraphs, I love them all. Thanks for your support, I know this story is still a baby but I promise to make it as amazing s I can. Your input on what scenes you'd like to see would be really helpful.

Also, I wanted to give anyone who didn't know a little trivia. Gotham is apparently in New Jersey, figures huh? I've been trying to map out Gotham and all that so I can mention places but having a hard time of it. Any help in this department is also appreciated.

Anyway, love you guys, I write these stories for you. Chaos is a lot more about the emotional outcome than the story telling itself but this one is the story, so yes those fans of chaos. The flashback scenes will be present in this story IN DETAIL! So enjoy the roller coaster ride and have fun, see ya later!


	3. Reflections

Chapter 3 – Reflection.

"Did you get the flowers I sent you?"

"Yes, I threw them away." Harley closed her locker and twisted its combination lock, turning to face Dr Barker, which is what she'd resigned herself to call him, refusing to use his first name and offer any sense of familiarity.

"Harley."

"Dr Quinzel, Dr Barker, we're at work and I'd appreciate it if you remembered that." she warned carefully, keeping her temper in control.

Three more months of this, his attempts to get back in her good graces only serving to agitate her more. After what he'd done, there was no way she could ever look at him with any level of respect.

"How many times do I need to apologize for this?" he begged, walking behind her as she took off into the corridor.

"Until hell freezes over and then melts." She said coldly, glaring at his passing reflection every time they passed a mirror.

"It was one article." He protested. "I said I was sorry."

"You stole my research papers, how the hell did you think I was going to feel when I open the American journal of psychiatry and find a two page spread of my work with your name on it?"

"Harley, I just-"

"I couldn't even leave you alone in my living room for ten minutes to go to the bathroom. It wasn't even finished, you sent in an incomplete paper and made it sound like pop medicine, I worked so hard on that. For the past three years I've worked on that paper."

"You were never going to publish it." he protested. "It was worth publishing, it was worth people knowing about."

"It was unfinished Barker, it sounds so glamorous the way you tweaked it but it was incomplete. I haven't even gotten in the same room with one of the high end criminals and you post that article like I did, I wrote that based on lower level criminals who have worked for super villains, not the super villains themselves."

"What's the damn difference Harley? It was a great paper. I offered to split the money with you." He growled angrily. "I even offered to give you most of the money, I asked you if you wanted to take part in the research group they're letting me start but you flat out refused."

"Because you distorted my work, you destroyed it. You think I was going to just go along with it? You think this is about the money? Well I'm sorry Dr Barker, it's not about the money, it's about my work, I want to help these people but all your doing is helping the government keep them locked away like they're animals."

"They are animals." He stated hotly and she had to resist the urge to ball up her fist and punch him, a flash of her father blinded her for a second and she had to push it away. "Have you ever been up to the Rogue gallery Harley? They're beasts, they're not even human, hell half of them never were. They have a damn crocodile man up there, they have the fucking clown up there, lets not forget scarecrow. They are worth exploiting."

"You're an idiot." she snapped and spun on her heel.

Heading to the conference room, Harley composed herself, ignoring Daniel as he tried to talk behind her.

She was still angry but she hid it well.

He'd been lucky, his parents had sent him to collage, he'd lived in Metropolis most of his life, good family, rich, maybe not Bruce Wayne rich but enough, enough to send him to the best schools, enough to make her life a living hell.

She'd wanted to report it, she'd tried, hadn't expected to find a lawyer at her doorstep, threatening her with a lawsuit. She would be plagiarizing her own work if she went public.

He'd gone and cried to daddy, it didn't matter that she had the proof.

She made 18k a year, that wasn't enough to pay for a lawyer to fight this, besides she knew the way the system worked, it didn't matter if you were right, it only mattered who you knew and the sad thing was, she didn't know anyone up high.

Only down low and not low enough.

She didn't want to go that route anyway, she couldn't go down that road, not now, not again.

It went to bad places, it went to, dark places.

Harley had been lucky, she'd applied to come here, because of her grades, because of all the work she'd done, she got in. she'd done her first year of internship in the infirmary, got to follow the doctors around on their med rounds. Even got to sit in on sessions in the minimum security wings.

She was in her third year of residency, all in all, her final year. If she could make it here In Arkham, if she could finish it off with something amazing and ground breaking, she'd be able to fulfill her dream.

She wanted her own practice, an office, a secretary, comfy couches, no leather, something that made you feel comfortable. Something that made it almost look like a living room. She wouldn't even care if her patients stretched out on the couch

Criminals.

She wanted to help criminals.

She sat down at the conference table and played with the cup of coffee they offered her. She made sure that she didn't sit next to Daniel, though he tried to get the spot to her left.

She wanted to help the people everyone else had given up on, discreetly, for any of them to come in and just, let it all out. To feel safe enough just to talk to her. It sounded so foolish, naive and she knew no one would understand her reasons.

She didn't want to write a best seller book, she didn't want to be on TV and do shows about these super villains and heroes.

For all their glamour, the spotlight that glowed around them, she didn't want to exploit any of them.

She just, wanted to help them.

When she did write a book, it would be for her fellow therapists, ways to help, not exploit. She would not write a tell all book about the batman or superman, it would not be a horror stricken story of childhood abuse and personal secrets, though they'd probably sell like hot cakes, she'd write a book that helped heal, not destroy them.

She often wondered how alone they must be, they were all in a league all their own and she hated the classification put on them.

Superheroes, villains, freaks, vigilantes. Sociopaths, psychopaths, megalomaniacs.

 _Stop it Harley, pay attention._ She told herself bitterly and turned to look at Dr Stevens, her boss.

The meeting went on, the weekly reports, new patients, the ones who were being considered for early release. She didn't get much say in those, she was lucky to get two patients to herself.

Her supervisor had allowed her to do private sessions with them, watching from the other side of the glass at her progress. They were her full time patients now, no supervision but any other patient, she still had to have someone in there with her and she worked mostly with the lowest levels of security and from time to time, the medium levels but never maximum security, never the rogue gallery.

"Okay everyone, I think that's all for today.. Dr Barker, have you got your final lists for me?" Dr Stevens looked up at the man sitting across from Harley.

"Yes sir, I'll have them for you this afternoon."

"I've been waiting for them since Friday Daniel." He said coolly but the warning was there and Harley had to hide a smile.

He was going to have to do the work on his own, he'd stolen her paper but the majority of her work was hidden on files, not here at the computer in her small office, not even on her coffee table at home. They were tucked away in a place he'd never have thought to look.

He had her paper but not her notes, all her private interviews that she'd done outside the asylum, the recordings of criminals who had agreed to talk to her under the strictest confidence.

Because she was Nick Quinzel's little girl, because they'd known her growing up. Piggy back riding on his back when he'd come in, looking for a contact, his next job.

Daniel couldn't get those sorts of interviews, he didn't know those people. He couldn't walk into the places she had, smile at the bar tender or the bouncer who had to look twice before crying out her name in utter surprise to see her all grown up.

To sit at a good table and hug the owners, laughing as they teased her for replacing pig tails and sneakers with high heels and makeup.

He would be killed in one night, she could leave at four in the morning and get home safely, knowing that the man with the gun following behind her wasn't out to shoot her but to protect her.

They were not super villains but they worked for them, knew of them, maybe seen them once or twice in passing. She was in the low end of the low end but it was a starting point. When she'd asked her favors, offering her money, what little of her pay that didn't go to bills in exchange just for the chance to talk. No names, just, talk. She was told that her money was no good there, that they would find those who were willing to talk to her and they had.

Because she knew them, because some of them had played with her as children while their fathers sat around playing poker, running things through the networks.

Harleen Quinzel, Nick Quinzel's little girl, who grew up to make something of herself, who fought her way up and now worked at Arkham asylum.

Harleen Quinzel, doctor now but who had not forgotten them, had not forgotten that they were friends, family, alive.

Too good for her.

That's what one of them said. _"You should have a nice office, your own place. I swear, I'd get you business till you were begging me to stop, good money too. These guys, they need someone to talk to who they can trust, who knows our world and you do."_

Their world.

The crime world.

Yes, she knew their world a great deal.

She looked up at Daniel who was glancing in her direction, she gave him the sweetest of smiles.

He'd never, ever be able to duplicate her work, not really. All he'd reduced it to was pop culture psychiatry that didn't resemble what she was doing at all.

The morning meeting closes and the doctors are dismissed for their duties. Daniel doesn't get the chance to talk to Harley again, she had sessions, both supervised and alone.

Four mid level security which she sits in on and from time to time, is allowed to talk to. She doesn't tell them that one of them is an old friend of her father's.

And one high level security.

She's kept him out of the rogue gallery, he's not quite there yet.

The rogue gallery itself is in the secondary building, the new facility that was only completed last year.

They gave a tour of it before they started housing the super villains of their maximum security wing.

It's a strange device to be honest, the first floor is actually the top floor.

To get to the wing, you have to go through a obstacle course.

On the first floor, they do the first security scan. A finger print recognition software, checking your badge.

Then you take the elevator to the fourth floor, where you go through another two security doors which require pass codes and an eye scan. You walk across the glass walkway, bullet proof glass they say, cameras all the way there. To a second elevator, where your belongings are deposited, no keys, no phones, wallets and your swipe card for the older side of the building. Most of your jewelry, maybe a watch is allowed depending on who you're going to see.

No food, no drinks.

The elevator takes you up and brings you back down, the only way in or out of the gallery.

Not including the ground floor door that leads to the exercise yard.

The top two floors house them, small cells with no bars, glass doors, bullet proof again, rooms that offer no privacy, both floors have treatment rooms, identical. Session rooms, six rooms each floor. Two bathrooms and a filing room, no break room for the guards, no security center either.

Only an orderly station, where the nurses and orderlies sit.

The third floor is strictly infirmary. Everything is tech sensitive, no door gets opened without a guard, no cabinet open without the swipe of a chip.

There is the possibility of weapons here but they've taken all the precautions they can think of, she guesses, it's expensive enough.

The second last floor is the showers, the proper bathrooms and disturbingly enough, their version of a cafeteria.

The showers are assigned, which she found strange. There are as many showers as there are cells and when someone raises their hand to find out why, she pays attention.

" _Some of these patients are, special. They have unique abilities that require special needs, special, precautions."_

The last floor Harley finds the most interesting, it's, a recreation floor. Split into different sections. An indoor garden, a sensory room, a TV room. Even a sort of game room, again, they're careful with weapons with these patients but it's almost like, they're trying.

She approves of this floor.

She had a little day dream, bringing a patient down here, sitting them in the sensory room with her. Nice comfortable chairs, no white anywhere, not dark, just, peaceful and she imagined herself talking.

The exercise yard is more or less a basketball court. A little larger maybe but nothing really stimulating. Harley can't imagine villains who face batman and such playing with a basketball.

Instead of fences though, it's all glass, probably specially treated. The glass panels allow the patients to look around their world, seems cruel. There is a nice lawn with trees out back but she feels that it only teases these people, taunts them with the idea of freedom.

The most distressing part, you can see the employee parking lot from the corner of the yard, the glass is tinted but you can still see.

She saw her baby parked out there, waiting for her.

When her lunch break comes, she gets changed and heads out. Heading for her favorite cafe, it's not really far but she uses it as an excuse to ride her baby.

When she comes back though, she hesitates, still sitting on the bike. She doesn't want to go back inside. She knows he's waiting for her in her office, she knows he won't give up today, she understands why.

Instead she takes a risk, picking a tree on the lawn and settling down on it, right on the roots and pulls her food out of her bag.

She doesn't normally do this, once in a while though. It's a risk, you can see the patients when they're brought out, they can see you but she can't go back to that office right now.

It clicked, he didn't have all her research and now he was desperate.

His study would come to no new methods, no new treatments, nothing but statistics and facts, she was going to let him hang himself.

She wouldn't save him from this.

She wasn't paying attention to anything, just sipping her juice from the bottle she'd bought and taking small bites of her sandwich. The cafe made great sandwiches and they always made sure to make hers just a little warmer.

She looked out into the parking lot, she'd have to go in soon. She had two more patients to deal with, then her last med run. She wouldn't get to go home though, she was on call for the infirmary and that meant she wouldn't get out until ten, maybe eleven.

She wouldn't get home until midnight, depending on traffic.

She sighed.

No, she would spend the night, find a quiet spot in her office.

She wasn't sure if Daniel worked tonight, if he did, she'd sleep under her desk.

A sound caught her attention.

A ball.

She looked up to see a guard, one of the expensive renovations for max security, throwing a ball into the hoop.

She knew him, though she didn't remember his name.

They'd talked in the break room on her side of the asylum a few times, he was interested in how long she'd owned her bike.

He was good looking she supposed, though not her type.

He was shorter than average and thick muscles, built.

She liked her men leaner, muscular yes but leaner. Taller too.

He hadn't noticed her, she'd positioned herself where you couldn't see her, she'd walked the whole yard on the tour and there was only one corner where you could see this spot.

No one was there, wasn't the most ideal place to relax in there.

It amazed her, that one piece of glass was all that kept a patient, dangerous and uncontrollable from breaking free.

One large panel of supposedly unbreakable glass.

 _Everything can break._ She thinks as she eats her food.

The guard isn't playing by himself though, he's playing one on one with someone.

A man, taller than he is, thinner, much thinner. Pale.

He's in the asylum scrubs, his hair green, his body is turned away from her she knows him immediately.

The Joker.

As close to the nexus as they can get.

Johnathan Crane, the first to come into the light, he is the first domino of this circus but the Joker, he is the storm that destroyed the world and remade it.

Him and the batman.

"What are you doing out here Harleen?" Dr Stevens voice breaks her focused gaze.

She turns to see her boss coming from his car. His own food in hand.

She smiles politely. "Eating, in peace."

"You feel comfortable eating right there, with..."

He motions to the glass.

"It doesn't bother me, I'm alright here."

"Well, you're braver than I am, I wouldn't sit there if my life depended on it."

"Well, the glass is supposed to be unbreakable."

"True." he concedes and glances at the glass and then back at her. "Interesting, it's almost... no, well as a man of science I can't say it's that but well, as a man who believes, maybe."

"Sir, I'm sorry to tell you. I missed your thought train." She laughs lightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Listen to me, you deal with crazy day in and day out, you start speaking their language." He laughed back and came a little closer. "Harleen."

"Harley, please, you know I prefer Harley."

"Well, Harley. You've been with us, for almost four years now."

"I have." she smiled.

"You've done exceptional work, I've been lucky enough to watch you grow, mature,. I want to, indulge you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Indulge me?"

"Yes, Harley... " He sighed. "Harley, I know about Barker and the research paper."

She sat up straight, her eyes widening.

"What?"

"I know your work anywhere, when I read it. I thought the little brat stole her work. He changed it of course, added his own spin on it but well, his father has a lot of influence on the board and well... There was nothing I could do."

"You get a nice visit from the lawyer too?"

"A shady man isn't he?" He gave her a dry smile. "I know mobsters who have more tact."

They shared a mutual dislike, and then a mutual smile.

"Harley, I'm not like Jeremiah, I'm not like Alyce. I care about this place, I don't give a damn about politics."

"But you can't help me."

"I unfortunately can't help you with that no, he'll fail, he doesn't have your talent. He doesn't' have that ability to connect with these people, you truly care about the patients."

"I do." she agreed.

"I'm glad you've refused to join his research attempts, because I want to offer you one of your own."

Harley blinked and rose to her knees, could it be?

"Yes?"

"When you first came here, you wanted to be given the opportunity to interview a resident of the rogue gallery. Sinner wouldn't allow it of course, we all know that and Arkham wouldn't have either and the board isn't thrilled about it but... I'm granting your request."

It took all her power not to start doing cartwheels and flips in joy.

From day one, she'd wanted nothing more than to be given permission to interview at least one member of the rogue gallery.

Even if all they did was sit there and say nothing, that would give her more insight into the criminal mind than anything else.

"Please don't joke sir, I know interns and residence don't get the gallery."

"I'm being serious Harley, you get your patient. It's already approved, this Thursday, you'll be going to get security clearance, then on Friday. Your first session."

She rose to her feet, unable to speak. She wanted to scream in excitement, cry, call someone.

Anyone.

"Sir." she managed. "Thank you."

"You deserve this Harley, you've earned this but be aware, the gallery is a dangerous place. These are not normal killers, they are unique. Touched by madness few of us will ever understand. Their language is as unique as their abilities. Their language is crime."

 _I speak crime._ She thought to herself.

"I understand."

"Good because the burn out rate for that building is high, half of my staff end up quitting, the other half. Well, lets just say they don't last very long either."

"I know."

They end up in the cemetery.

"I just need to make sure you understand the risk."

"I do sir, I understand that they're dangerous."

"You're unique though Harley, I don't think you're meant to suffer those fates. I think, you can change the status quot."

She beams at the compliment, Stevens was just a doctor when she started so she got to know him as a colleague first and not just the boss.

"Thank you and I will."

"The security, I'm afraid it's a bit of a hassle but a necessary one sadly."

"I completely understand." she's too thrilled to care.

Harley can't stop smiling.

"I'm taking a risk Harley, you're still a resident. It's one thing to let you accompany a seasoned doctor up to the ward, it's another to let you go up there alone. Except I've learned something about these people, they don't like team ups, they don't trust easily and they're hostile."

"I can handle that." She's finding it hard to contain her emotions, her electric thrill.

One patient in the gallery.

It would make anything Daniel tried to do look like a joke.

"Are you sure Harley?"

"Yes, yes, yes." She laughed loudly. Unable to contain it anymore.

"I'm trusting you, because I know you do this work for the patients, for their well being. I know you won't go off and become famous off it, even if you could."

She did think he was laying it on a little thick, praising her so much and then adding warnings. Was there a catch?

"Of course not Sir, they're people, not performance animals."

She's serious but she can't keep a straight face, she's too happy, overjoyed, thrilled, whatever other word means perfect happiness.

"Well, most of them aren't." Stevens sighs.

"Who sir, can you tell me who my patient is?"

Dr Stevens gives her a look, it's a mix between concern and knowing. He turns slightly and looks at the glass, where they could see Joker busy defending the ball from the guard. Using his arms reach as an advantage.

Harley lost it.

She'd admitted that if she could choose any of the villains of Gotham to interview, it would be the Joker.

The joker was her patient.

A scream of joy broke his concentration.

Christopher grabbed the ball from him but the scream had him off guard too.

The game stops.

On the outside, he wouldn't have bothered playing basketball or any other sport like that but in here, where an hour of time outside was the only chance he'd get, he wasn't going to be picky.

The scream had been a positive sound, a woman, he'd heard her laughing a few minutes ago but the guard had kept his focus on the game.

Now though, he could do nothing but listen to that musical laughter, excitement and happiness that was rare in a place like this.

He couldn't see her, only hear her laughter.

He could see the whole parking lot, where the doctors and staff parked their cars but not the woman.

He had to move to the other side of the court, closer still.

Then, he catches a flicker of movement and he sees her.

She's tall for a woman, lithe, blonde and fair. Her eyes a color of blue. He can't see them from here but he has become an expert at picking out details, her eyes are a shade of blue.

He can't hear what she's saying but her laugh echos towards him, like a song from a music box.

So beautiful, the laugh, the woman.

A rare treasure in a hell like this.

He focuses on her, imprinting the image of her in his mind for later.

Maybe its the drugs, they're not fully out of his system yet.

She's just, too much to forget.

He needs something pretty to think of, otherwise he might actually start thinking he's crazy like they say he is.

"That's her J." Christopher comes to stand beside him, keeping just out of his arms reach, the cuffs in his hand in case he gets out of line but he won't. He likes the first shift guards, they're, extra fun.

J focuses more on the woman, so that's Harleen Quinzel, his newest doctor.

He'd tried to imagine her, he'd done her no justice.

He watches as she sits back down on the roots of a tree and waves goodbye to Stevens. Picking up a forgotten sandwich. A strange place for a picnic but he's glad, he can look at her more carefully.

She's still got that smile on her face, laughing to herself and he lets out a small, almost inaudible growl.

As if she hears it, she looks up and their eyes meet for a moment.

They're too far away from each other, neither can pick out anything but the most obvious details.

He motions subtly with his hand, he knows she sees it.

 _Come here_. He silently orders

"Come on J, I haven't finished beating your ass." Christopher taunt. "Remember Jimmy agreed, you win, you get an extra hour of rec time."

"And if I loose, I tell you one story of a crime I haven't been convicted of." He smirks and looks away from his doctor.

He won't know if she'd have come over, the guards won't allow it.

Harley stares after him, watching as the guard throws the ball back to the prince of crime.

Her heart starts pounding in her chest and she smiles again, it's a small smile, shy even.

"Enjoy your game Mr J, we'll meet on Friday." she whispers and takes a bigger bite of her lunch.

He has no idea what he's in for.

"You won't break me, I'm gonna help you."

Joker turns around while Christopher talks to his colleagues to check the score, their eyes meet once more and she gives him a very small wave of greeting.

He inclines his head in response.

 _You have no idea what you're getting into little girl. We're going to have a lot of fun._

A/N Yay, for those who read chaos, merry Christmas in September. Cause I've updated that too. If you don't read it, um well just disregard that comment. So I actually did a lot of research on how interns and such work in real life. I know in the cartoons, the comics, she's fresh out of collage, first year and they give her Joker but in reality, that wouldn't happen. Not by herself anyway. Fourth year? Yeah, more plausible. I hope you guys like this, had a little trouble fitting in how all of the story line was going to work but yay, I got it.

As always I ask for reviews, gimme, gimme PLEASE they are the blood and air of any writer and I love to hear from you guys, you guys are the best readers out there. I got back and re read what you comment and it inspires me to write more. Also I would really, really appreciate it if you guys would throw me some ideas of what you'd like to see throught he story. I have the main plot set in stone but the lttle sessions are still um blurry. Anyway, love you guys, enjoy!


	4. Impressions of a moment

Chapter 4 – Impressions of a moment.

The alarm went off and Harley jumped, wincing as pain rushed through her side and up her cramped hand.

She tried to shift awkwardly on the small couch, regretting her decision not to have slept on the floor. She'd spent the night in her office again, grabbing a blanket and pillow from the supply closet down the hall and fallen asleep reading over Joker's file again.

Rolling her arm slowly, she hissed in pain, she'd fallen asleep in an awkward position and now, her whole arm felt like someone had been crushing it.

"Nice start Harley." she chided to herself before placing her feet on the ground.

The file slipped onto the ground and it took her a minute to collect her bearings, picking it up with her good arm.

There were several pages worth, what little history they had about him, all his previous arrests and crimes, notes on all the treatments and drugs he'd been given. The list was also several pages long and she was amazed they hadn't accidentally killed him with an overdose of something.

 _Maybe they'd tried._ She thought darkly.

There where a few pages with doctors notes, her many predecessors had similar thoughts on him, though their information was sketchy at best.

Most of the notes were the doctors own thoughts and not actual conditions, which she found strange.

The only official diagnosis was that he was a sociopath, which she'd disregarded.

The term was thrown around too much, sociopath, psychopath.

They both derived from anti-social disorders and that was the strange thing, was the Joker actually anti social or was he, something else?

True he murdered, he enjoyed inflicting pain on others but there was more to it. He reveled in the attention, when he didn't get it, he forced the focus back on himself.

Harley flipped to the last few pages, they were all photographs of him, his mug shot, random photos the doctors had managed to acquired, newspaper clippings, his picture in all his glory.

She'd rearranged them to make a sort of time line, when he was younger, when he first showed up in the public eye, still unknown but able to bring Gotham crashing down onto its knees.

Alone, no men, discarding help like it was disposable cups.

A sharp intellect that she could respect, he planned and then let go of the plans to possibility.

More fascinating, he used others plans against them, picked them apart and rearranged them to his own will.

She remembered the saying, that genius and madness walked a very thin line.

No one had managed to do a traditional IQ test on him, he gave them nothing and that alone was telling.

Back then and now, he kept his mind to himself.

Would she be able to unlock that mind? Would he share at least a fraction of it with her? Was she kidding herself?

He lacked morality, that was dangerous but didn't make him crazy, her idea of crazy was very different than most of the doctors here.

She flipped to another picture, of him after the massive breakout of Blackgate and Arkham after Bane. He'd changed a little, still in his glory but, more focused.

She pinned that as the moment that he set a goal for himself, he'd been upstaged in a way that his old methods could no longer contest with, he couldn't just exist in the wind, he had to, build something.

"His empire starts here." She mused to herself as she touches the picture.

In her own mind, she thought that moment was the decisive moment, when he chose to take the ashes of what was left and build something grander, a temple dedicated to his art, to chaos.

Batman was gone after all, no one to stop him.

Every picture showed his evolution, without the bat, he had time to create the network of crime he possessed. She watched almost like a running movie as his transformation took place, right in front of her eyes.

He discarded the purple jacket, though she was sure he still had it somewhere. He traded it in for something bigger, the clothes he wore, which she'd had the opportunity yesterday to take a look at, from his last arrest, were the best quality, tailor made.

His jewelry flashy, something to catch your attention.

Still the performer, just updating his show.

Some said he'd sold out but she saw it for what it was, an upgrade of stadium.

Like magicians who work little shows or street corners and finally get their break, playing a sold out show in Las Vegas.

He played the part with all the perks, she could imagine him becoming accustomed to the new, rich life style.

Then the last pictures, of after the bat returning, the fire in his eyes, this new upgraded version of him against the dark knight and how it only played into his chaos.

Goodbye Las Vegas, hello packed stadium performances, with world wide TV airings.

Gotham was their stage, her colleagues disagreed but she truly thought that Joker would never actually kill batman. They were, connected in some strange way.

The hero and the villain.

"It's like a really warped opera." she mused, getting up from the couch, the file still in her hands.

Her arm had finally stopped hurting and as she rose, she heard several bones popping.

Harley kept a change of clothes in the bottom drawer of her desk, along with a set of pj's and necessities, toothbrush, hair brush, shower products.

One of her resident friends made the joke that she might as well live here.

Some days, she did. Staying overnight and then not leaving until late the next afternoon.

If someone walked in, they'd be surprised to find her in a pair of cotton pink shorts and a blue over sized t-shirt, her hair braided into pigtails.

Setting the file aside, she arched her back, raising her hands over her head and letting her muscles relax.

There was no one downstairs, her office was above the filing room, no one would mind if she relaxed before getting ready.

Her appointment with the Joker wasn't until 9 am, it was 6;38 now, plenty of time to shower, get something out of the vending machine and take one final look at her plan.

As laughable and insane as it was.

Ignoring him was the best course of action, it would rile him up, a performer like him, he needed attention and if she risked it, if she played the part of the disinterested therapist who'd been punished with his file, he'd give her a reaction.

"You're out of your mind Harls." she chided to herself and sighed. Crouching down and easily doing a few forward rolls in a row.

It was incredibly dangerous, angering him on purpose but the only real reaction she'd get from him was rage, anything else would be a performance, faked.

His mask hid him too well, she'd have to make sure hers was just as thick.

Letting herself fall flat on her back she grabbed one of her legs and let it fall above her head, her toes touching the ground.

She'd have to be sure to be as limber as possible today, there was every chance this could go bad, very, very quickly.

She'd chosen her clothes for today very carefully.

A looser button up shirt with a tank top underneath, so that if needed it could easily be removed, a skirt that was of proper length but she could shove out of the way just as easily. Even her underwear was planned out, nothing provocative, they were the kind that resembled shorts, easier to maneuver herself in. Cartwheels and flips were harder to do in lace.

She was going to wear her hair out of the way, a neat professional twist, her glasses, though she really didn't need them today and of course, heels.

Sounded stupid, especially with all the walking she was going to have to do to get up to the rogue gallery but she felt it was a good trade off.

Heel could be a weapon, she had no doubt that the straight jacket wouldn't hold him if he really got angry and she'd seen patients loose control easily, their strength connected to their rage.

Guards or no guards, she was going to have to defend herself with the thought that no one was coming to help her.

That was exactly what the security firm told her the previous day.

Six hours of paperwork, tutorials, background checks, interrogations of her past.

Her father in particular.

Having to explain the situation.

That he'd been a con man, that yes, he'd gone to Blackgate, then after his release he'd been struck down by a drunk driver.

She lied, she told them she didn't stay in contact with anyone from that world, she knew no one would mention her name if they went prying. It wasn't a lie when she said that she knew no one associated with joker, not even his lowest henchman.

She told them she was too young to even remember the name of the driver and held no resentment against him. Again, another lie.

They'd gone as far back as possible, invading her past to ensure that she was not a security risk.

Explanations of how the codes were changed, the exact way the chip worked in her new security ID card, finger printing, eye scanning. Even a DNA test.

Yet that hadn't been the strangest part.

They, took x-rays, of her body and her teeth. A hair sample, then, a blood test which obviously couldn't be for DNA, since they'd already taken a sample.

" _You'd be amazed what can be done now, with, them."_ the lab tech had explained.

Them, meta humans.

All those tests were to ensure that she was who she said she was, that she had no powers, that she was still, one of them and not a 'freak', crude as the word might be.

He wasn't a meta human but they assumed he knew them, assumed he made deals with the more criminally inclined ones.

Her knowledge of meta humans was limited, she was trying to learn more about them but the problem came with pulling truth from exaggerated fiction.

They were afraid of shape shifters.

She supposed she could understand but by the time she was done, she was exhausted. Feeling like she was being scrutinized, judged.

A laundry list of do's and don'ts, she already had half of them crossed off as things she would have to ignore and do whether they were allowed or not.

Procedure, understanding that she would know the names of all three analysts, have their contact information and that by signing the agreements, she was stating that she would under no circumstances give that information out.

A waver, freeing both the security firm and Arkham from any liability if she got hurt due to the Joker.

Before she'd left, the head agent looked at her seriously and asked her if she had a will or not. When she'd told him she didn't, he encouraged her to have one prepared.

Harley moved her other leg to match her right one, so both feet were on the floor, her body contorted into a strange circle shape before relaxing and pushing herself up off the ground, doing a perfect handstand.

She had one other problem.

With her plan of action, she wouldn't be able to talk to him, ask him what he was comfortable being called. After all, Joker wasn't exactly the prettiest of names.

Mr Joker seemed too formal, patient 'insert number here' felt, cold.

"Hello Mr Joker, I'm Dr Harleen Quinzel." She sighed and tried again. "Hello Mr Joker, I'm Dr Quinzel."

How did you say hello to a man you were planning to ignore?

The whole point was to give him as little interaction as possible. Introducing herself would go against the plan. Sure she could make the greeting sound as robotic as she'd heard other doctors do, she wanted the introduction to mean something, for however long he was here, which could be the rest of his life by the looks of it, they needed to have an, amicable working relationship.

Pretending to be that disinterested would end up working against her than for her.

"Hello Mr Joker, I'm Harley Quinzel." she said, letting her legs fall back to the ground and instantly let them slide into a split, inwardly wincing at the feel of the carpet burning her legs.

"Hello Mr, J. I'm Harley." that felt, better, she liked it. Mr J, it was respecting his status but giving it a more casual feel.

"Hello Mr J, I'm Dr Harley Quinzel." She liked it. "Hello Mr J, I'm Harley Quinn."

She smiled and shook her head, he'd probably laugh at that one, a few people had caught the reference in the past. Harley Quinzel, Harley Quinn.

The name she'd used for herself since she was much, much younger.

"I'm a performer too Mr J." she said as she finished stretching. "Lets see what kind of act we can make."

She flipped through the file once more, checking to see his current drug program. Thankfully they'd gotten him off the harder drugs, her predecessor had seen fit to put him on several anti psychotics that had apparently made him little more than a vegetable, she shook her head in disgust. The problem became when his body started to resist the drugs, which had occurred. They hadn't ever done proper blood work on him, he was a victim of a chemical change, you'd have thought they'd do more extensive tests to see how deep the effects went.

Was it just superficial, or was it, deeper? Had the fall, changed his DNA?

He was also on several different treatments, ECT, which she found pointless, he wasn't depressed, he wasn't emotionally unstable, someone had laughed at her when she'd mentioned that. Was it Daniel? She couldn't remember, the shock therapy would only serve to piss him off and potentially fry what memories he did have of his past. The white room, a barbaric torture room she thought, a room that was completely void of anything but white, like this place wasn't depressing enough. It acted as a sensory deprivation area. Forced the brain to panic, no color, nothing to focus on but white.

The theory was, a patient who lived in a state of panic could perhaps, find some focus and clarity.

She had those two treatments on a list of things to remove from his treatment.

Harley was starting to think no one wanted to help him, only contain him, only domesticate him. She shook her head, remembering something she'd read once. The spotted hyena, the most popularly known of the hyena family was considered unable to be domesticated.

She smiled at the idea, he was a hyena.

Unattainable, impossible to subdue, so how did you get around that?

You, learned how his world worked, which was exactly what she wanted.

It took her an hour to be ready.

Every time she turned the water off, she turned it back on, scrubbing harder at her skin, she was nervous. This was different to any other patient she'd had so far. No sit in, she'd be alone, with one of Gotham's criminal elite.

Not just elite, royal.

Of all the other criminals and their various styles and roles, none held the title of Prince, he did. The clown prince of crime, the prince of Gotham city.

That wasn't just a self inserted title either, he'd earned that name.

Harley looked at herself in the mirror, if anyone looked at her, they wouldn't think much. Book worm maybe, frump girl. Good, let them think that, let him think that.

 _Though he's already seen you before._ She thought, that worked for her advantage though.

She could wear contacts but the look was lost without the glasses.

She was hungry for this, ready for it, everything she'd worked for, everything Daniel had tried to steal was held together by this moment, if she could even survive one session with him, make it to the second where she could truly introduce herself to him. It would validate her work to herself and leave everyone else in the dust.

"Hope you're ready Mr J, here we go." she whispered, grabbing the file, a pen and her security badge.

The security started on the first floor of the front building.

"Key card Dr Quinzel." The guard asked, letting her swipe it, the chip reading off her security clearance.

"Thank you Dr, you were informed if it's after hours or an emergency, that you have to go through floor three?"

"Yes."

"Harley, going up early?" Dr Stevens called from behind her. "Without me?"

She smiled back at her boss and took back her badge.

"I figured the security would take up my time, didn't want to be held up."

"Well, you won't have to worry about all that today, just get this floor done and I'll take you the rest of the way, you can go through the bells and whistles next time."

"You're taking me up?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Of course, did you think I was just going to throw you to the wolves?"

He motioned for her to continue with the check point.

Her finger print scanned, her eyes feeling irritated with the light they used to check her irises.

Asked to give her full name, her ID number, her voice matched. The guard nodded and Dr Stevens started walking her to the elevator at the very end of the building. Guards positioned every few feet.

"Call up, let Jimmy know we're coming." He called.

"Jimmy?" she asked as they walked.

"Morning shift guard leader, one of the more expensive toys we got him. The lead wolf I was hoping not to throw you to."

She smiled at that, Stevens told her that Joker liked to call the chief of staff his, 'parent' "I'm sure you've gone through all the security papers you were given yesterday."

"Yes, the whole thing." She grimaced, it had been a very long list.

"Good, I'm sorry but the gallery is a completely different world. Sometimes I think we cater to their madness too much, for gods sake, level one is level five and level one is level five."

"I don't think we're catering, I think we're..." she didn't finish the sentence.

He dismissed it and cleared his throat.

"I know you've probably gotten tired of hearing this but I'd like to go over a few do's and don'ts."

She inwardly cringed.

"Okay."

They walked, Harley wondered if the Joker was up there waiting for her or if she was of no importance at all.

Joker was, excited.

He'd given the guards no problems, the orderlies had no clue what to do with him, when he just did what Jimmy asked him to do.

Showered, singing purposefully off key to unnerve them, laughing when Christopher yelled that he knew he could sing better than that and to stop insulting Italian opera.

He could almost hear the others upstairs, calling in whispers. "Fresh meat."

His new doctor, in their eyes, the new victim to his cruelty but they had no idea.

He ate, earning him a raised eyebrow from Jimmy who asked him what he was planning to do with the young blonde.

Joker just laughed at him.

She'd sat there, eating her sandwich and finishing her drink, watching the game between himself and the guard. Watching him win his extra time.

It wasn't hard, it was like throwing a grenade, you had to know where the target was to get the best explosion.

When he'd turned around to see if she was still there, he was disappointed to see her walking away. Her garbage in hand, she did not look back towards him.

When the call came in on Jimmy's radio, Joker grinned. Time was up, time to meet the pretty little doctor., the key to his freedom.

Jimmy and Christopher left him with Shane and Brian, two more of the guards.

They were smart, never using last names.

They led him to room six, the most boring room, a two way mirror where doctors and guards could watch and listen to the sessions. It was the largest of the rooms, no intimacy, no privacy.

Shane and Brian would stay in the room, she'd be predictably safe.

He's in the jacket, like he'd kill her on the first session, please, he was far more tasteful than that.

He popped his neck as he waited, he was keeping count, how long it took Jimmy to leave, how long it took him to come back with the woman.

Time ticked away, soon enough he was bored, going through his rehearsed stories, what he believed would get her sympathy.

For her, he'd considered, things that would appeal to a younger therapist, a younger mind.

He'd even considered, giving her pieces of the truth.

No, no need to do that.

Finally after an eternity of entertaining his mind, he felt the vibration of the guard's boots, this room was built so he couldn't hear them outside talking, it didn't stop him from feeling the vibrations of movement.

Then, a new note, one not heard or felt up here, ever.

Sharp, very sharp, something clicking over and over again on the hard floor.

Rhythmic and in time.

Click, click.

Click, click.

Then, nothing, just the sound of Jimmy's vibrations as he talks, muffled but not completely silenced.

The door finally opens and Jimmy looks directly at him. one hand is behind him, keeping the doctor from coming in.

"Joker, your doc is here, play nice." he teases and he moves his hand away, letting her come inside.

His eyes are focused on her and only her. She looks different than she did two days ago. Her hair is up in a twist, glasses, a button down shirt under her lab coat and a skirt that goes all the way down to her knees.

The only thing that could be considered interesting are her shoes, she's wearing, heels.

Not little ones either, quite a few inches high.

She sits down across from him, glances at the guards as Jimmy steps out, closing the door behind him. She seems, unfazed by it all.

"Morning." Her voice is light, airy, sounds a little west coast.

She opens her folder and starts writing, doesn't say anything, doesn't even acknowledge his silence.

Nothing, she gives him nothing.

Is that even his folder? It's in a binder, not the old cardboard one.

Wait, was she doing... catch up work?

She glances in his direction only twice, her expression, bored.

He felt his blood start to bubble, this little girl... didn't want to be here, she was being made to be here. She was assigned his case as a punishment? Oh he'd make a punishment for her, how dare she ignore him.

Time ticked on.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

Their time was slipping away and at one point, when she had her head down, he was tempted to say something. To ask her something demented, something to make her jump but he didn't.

He was watching her hand.

She was, writing feverishly, her hand moving in a strange manor, as if, she was drawing but that wasn't what it looked like. She was writing, her hand went from left to right, he saw that but something wasn't right.

He was mad, feeling his arms wriggle against the restraints, his fingers itching to wrap around that pretty little neck, make her squirm, hear her cry out until she couldn't anymore.

Finally, she put the pen down and looked up at him. Her blue eyes, yes they were most definitely blue had a spark of something in them.

She looked down at her watch and then once again, looked back at him.

She sighed, almost dramatically.

"Well, our session is up." she said with a genuine hint of disappointment. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. I'll see you on Monday, same time."

She paused for a second, tilting her head a little, as if checking that he was listening.

"If there isn't anything you need, I'll see you later."

She rose and glanced at the guards, Joker never took his eyes off her. There was a subtle twitch in her face, she was, hiding an emotion.

What was she doing? What the hell was this little girl about?

She looked ready to leave but paused, opening the folder back up and tearing out the page she'd been writing in, laying it faced down on the table.

She waits for him, like he's going to say something and when he doesn't, she nods her farewell and leaves the room.

Brian moves forward and picks up the paper, glancing at it with an expression of rare surprise and then, amusement.

He turns and looks at Joker before turning the paper for him to see, snickering at whatever it was.

It's a drawing, lines, shapes and black and white sections. An abstract design with no real purpose in it.

A drawing of chaos, only one thing stands out as defined.

In the center of this design, is a woman on her hands like she was doing a cartwheel.

The whole time he's looking at the picture, he notices the very subtle message in the lines, a message only for him, secret, wonderfully devious and the anger subsided and gave way to thrill.

 _Oh, check doctor Quinzel, check._

Hello Mr J

My name is Harley

I'll be your doctor until your next escape.

I hope we can have a pleasant working environment until then and that I'm at least able to help you work through some of your issues.

At the very bottom, was a signature and he let his whole body fall back, his head falling all the way.

 _HQ_

He laughed, hard and loud.

Oh, he liked her, he liked her a lot.

He was going to have so much fun with this Harlequin girl who dared to poke the dragon.

"So, you like her huh?" Shane asked with a hint of concern.

"Oh, she's a treat."

He bared his silver teeth.

"Poor girl." Brian shook his head.

 _Poor girl, indeed._

A/N Ah Monday, looks like all the writers have decided to post today, make the beginning of the week less unbearable. Sorry it took me an extra day, had to do a complete rewrite, hopefully you guys enjoy. If you read chaos, you've read Harley's POV of this scene, I hope you enjoyed. I know I'm taking a different approach to Harley but I am going by something Margot Robbie said about Harley Quinn, she's strong, she's smart and she's kick ass. I find it hard to imagine Harley being this timid little mouse who is easily intimidated by any man, even Joker who will become her soul mate. I also want to correct something, I know in chaos, I wrote that it's over the weekend that she plans this, I forgot that in the last chapter so if you guys don't mind doing the mental adjustment and sorry!

I don't know how far I'll go with this story, definitely going to go as deep as I can, I want to really expand past Arkham, through Harley's recovery and later, development as a criminal.

I'm actually terrified of a few scenes, for one, I'm scared to death of touching the chemical vat scene. It's such a beautiful moment, I know some people criticism the moment but to me it's the true beginning of their love story. She sacrifices herself and he realizes he can't be without her. How can I touch that and do it proper justice? Eh, sorry, my own concerns. But hopefully you guys will continue to read on.

As always, I love your comments, your reviews and Please, keep em coming. They are the fuel for this writer. Anyway, till next time guys. Adios and enjoy this roller coaster.


	5. Unconventional methods

Chapter 5 - Unconventional methods.

"Dr Quinzel, you are going to be my problem child, aren't you?" Jimmy asked her, coming out of the elevator and coming to stand right in front of her.

Harley smiled sweetly, shrugging her shoulders at the lead security guard. Uncrossing her legs and adjusting in the seat.

"I don't mean to be trouble Jimmy, I just found a way around the rules."

He crossed his arms and glanced at the things she'd brought. Three boxes of food, a sealed cup of coffee and a satchel bag of folders.

The rules were clear, she couldn't take any of this up there, which had taken up most of her weekend. Figuring out a way to get all of it in, without having to break the rules.

These men, these day guards played by a different game. They were soldiers, killers, assassins. They all shared that look in their eyes, she'd seen them over time. Coming down to the staff room to get their lunch, to drink some coffee. Their masks in place but she saw past that mask, to the scarred faces of men who'd seen too much and lived too hard, to fast.

These men were her age, not even in their thirties yet and they were older than some of the senior doctors. They lived a lifetime of pain and regret in the span of a decade.

She had theories on soldiers and had even done some research back in collage to find out how closely related the profession of a soldier and a criminal lay, the line she found, on many occasions, crossed over but were still incredibly different.

Her thesis, heroes and villains.

"So Taylor tells me this is all for him." He motioned towards her selection of items. "You did read over the rules, right?"

"Yes, with a fine tooth comb and like I told 'Taylor' I am not planning to break the rules at all. If you check everything, you approve that it's safe and you take it up. I can take it back from you up there."

"And why would I do that for you?" Jimmy asks her seriously. "This is your second day up there and you're already sending him into a frenzy. You should have heard him laugh when he overheard the communication."

"Does he know what I'm doing today?" She was, worried that he'd have time to prepare for her.

Jimmy shook his head. "He knows you're doing something to make my life harder, that's what drove him up the wall."

She grinned. "Good."

"Listen Quinzel, my job is to keep you both safe. I can't do that if you play by the beat of your own drum."

"My job is to help him and traditional methods are useless on him."

"Why you think that?" He asked, coming a little closer.

"Because he's not sick." she declared and the small area went silent.

All eyes were on her, their faces passive but she saw the smallest hint of disbelief in those eyes.

She had to admit that even she was surprised at her bold statement.

Jimmy shifted his weight, regarding her more carefully, she'd seen criminals do this with her before. When they didn't know her and disregarded her, only to find out that she was up on the game. Knew how it worked. Jimmy was now looking at her with that same regard, he'd made a mistake.

"He's not sick?"

"No." Harley continued. "Not in the traditional way, maybe not at all. He's not mentally damaged in the sense of a condition, he chooses to be what he is, he chooses to do the things he does. This isn't a patient who just looses it for the sake of loosing it, or a man who hears voices and they tell him to do bad things. Those methods will never help him."

She'd thought about it for a while, after reading his file, seeing what other doctors said, she'd come to that conclusion. His situation was unique, a mental status of choice and not chemical, not brain damage. He was too intelligent, high IQ, low EQ the ability to empathize, to not care about human life in the way he did was rare. Had anyone ever attempted an IQ test on him? Did anyone honestly know how smart the man was to pull off the things he did?

He was able to function, wasn't homeless on the streets, chose everything he did.

He had stocks, he had businesses, money that was legitimately earned. A man with a mental disease person couldn't function like that, they couldn't act the way he did and honestly be called ill.

She knew children who were autistic who had incredible gifts, were able to see the world in such an amazing way but couldn't express it, couldn't vocalize their world or how they saw it.

Was he an evolved version of that?

He felt more like that, he felt, awakened somehow. How did you do that? How did you reach that level of existence?

Harley didn't know but she wanted to find out and she needed Jimmy to see that.

"You seriously want to help him don't you?"

"Yes, if I can help the quality of his life then I've done my job. Jimmy, listen to me. Something happened to him, maybe the fall, maybe something else that put him on the path he's on. He could have easily been one of you, that's what kind of man he is. Could you imagine if things had turned out differently for him? Maybe he'd be batman and not the Joker."

Jimmy turned and walked to the window, rubbing his temples.

"You like him." she declared. "All of you do, because you see something of yourselves in him. Maybe not so extreme but you've all looked at the same darkness. You stopped at some point, he kept going forward. You respect him, because for everything evil he's done you pray at night that it doesn't happen to you."

She knew she was pushing her luck, she knew she was treading on dangerous waters with her words. Standing there and verbally saying those things, it was confronting their pasts, their sins in the name of their country.

They'd done monstrous things, it's why they were chosen to be here. They'd faced evil and embraced it because they had to and they'd come back from it, they'd come back into the light with a new found understanding of the universe and a hollow emptiness because none of them belonged anymore.

Like the Joker, they were outcasts who had to wake up and make the choice every morning to do good and not evil.

Men of honor, men who mourned the evil men they'd killed because it was another life they'd taken, who'd probably done far worse than just that.

Far, far worse but if they didn't mourn every life taken, if they didn't count every drop of blood. They would become like the Joker, such an easy switch over, one they fought every single day.

Jimmy turned slowly to look at her, again his expression had changed, those eyes sparked with something unreadable.

"He'll do worse than hurt you doc, do you understand this? You go down this road, you do more than any of the others ever dared to and you'll be walking into the dragon's lair."

"No Jimmy, you're the dragon." She said with a smile. "You're the dragon who protects the gate, he's something else."

Jimmy laughed, the others did too. Amused at her interpretation of their job.

"Well, if I'm the dragon, I'd hate to think what you think he is but whatever you think. He's gonna hurt you and he's gonna break you. You're on his radar, he's got you in his sights and I can promise you. You left an impression."

"If you're worried about my safety, I'm willing to take the risk."

'Why?" Jimmy asked the same question Dr Stevens asked on Friday.

"Because I have to." She admitted softly. "Because this is what I have to do."

"Who made you the hero?" One of the guards asked, she remembered him from Friday, Shawn.

"I'm not the hero. I don't slay the dragon, I don't know what I am but I have to try."

They paused, considering her declarations.

She saw into them, she was good at it. She'd joked a few times that she could make a great cop, a profiler. She saw into them, saw into their darkness, into their minds. Every twitch, every expression said something.

It made her a terrible person to play poker with, not because she was particularly good at the cards but because she was good at reading the opponents.

 _Maybe I should go play one day._

Did they see into her?

They'd seen war, stared into the enemy's eyes and seen what made them who they were.

She remembered a line the Joker had stated to a cop.

In their last moments, people show you who they really are.

They saw death, they knew it. It gave you a perspective that was not easy to find on your own.

Did they see who she was?

Did they know that this version of her was only part of her, like a layered cake.

Would they be surprised to know that she liked going to the cages with a baseball bat every so often, hitting the balls just so she could let go of some stress.

That she was horrible relationship material, only having had one boyfriend who she hadn't been able to hold onto, to save.

Did they know somehow that she'd never let a lover into her apartment, that she stayed at their places and then left in the morning. That she liked men but from time to time, when she saw a woman that sparked her interest she allowed herself an indulgence.

Did they see the side of her she refused to let out, hidden deep inside of her. The part she'd convinced herself was a flaw, a weakness of human nature that she had to control.

Jimmy sighed and paced back and forward to the window, Harley kept her eyes on the clock, it was almost getting too late to go up there. Her session would start in five minutes, whatever he was going to decide. It had to be now.

She understood their concern, she was asking them to let her into the devil's realm unguarded, to lower the protection they swore to hold up and because she could read into them, they were tempted, if only to see what became of her.

"Let me have today." she urged.

"It only takes one day. Doc, do you know what happened to the last five doctors who've been assigned to him?"

"Yes, I know what happened to each and every one of them. Jimmy, there are mob bosses who've done the same things, who've done worse in my book and they're not in this place. He is, can you honestly tell me there is no part of you that wonders why that is? That isn't just a little curious to know what the obsession is with batman?"

"You said he wasn't sick."

"Obsession isn't sickness, it's a bi product. I'm not one of those doctors who looks at behavior and instantly thinks _oh it's a disease._ Events in our lives mold us Jimmy, they make us who we are. I just want to know what molded him, I want to understand."

"That is a very dark hole and there may not be a way back out."

He wasn't just talking about safety now, she saw the way his eyes clouded, the way he leaned in.

"I'm not innocent Jimmy, if you're worried about that you shouldn't. Look, I understand. You have to keep a neutral relationship between the patients and the doctors, your lives depend on it but I need for you to trust me, to let me have the respect that's expected of you to have towards me. I need him to see that, if you trust me, he'll hear me out. If nothing else."

"He won't, he'll hear what he wants to hear and then he'll eat you alive."

"I told you, I'm not innocent and I'm not helpless." She crossed her arms. "This is a situation that's complicated, I understand. Because of the people up there, you have more authority than I do. I get it, I'm the resident, hell I might as well be an intern but I'm still a doctor here, I still have the right to treat my patient in the best way I can."

Jimmy stopped and stared at her again, finally lowering his head and sighing.

"Fine, you win. You're right, you're the doctor." He nodded to the men.

She breathed a sigh of her own. She wasn't sure that would work, it was one thing to believe she could, it was another to actually get these men to agree to something her boss would have called out of the question.

The food and bag were checked and Jimmy himself escorted her upstairs.

"You're third visit you can go up alone, we won't have to tail you the whole time." He said quietly.

"Thank you, I understand how hard this is."

"Do you honestly understand?"

She didn't look at him when she answered. "Yes, I do."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He confessed honestly. "Lets hope you know what your doing."

The elevator pinged and he let her out, leading her down the same halls as last time, holding the bag and the boxes for her until they reached the room labeled three.

Jimmy turned around to face her, handing her the things.

"You're on your own in there Quinzel, I can't guarantee we'll be close enough to get to you if something goes wrong. You get that right?"

She nodded silently.

He opened the door and this time she walked in first.

Joker had been waiting for her, listening for the sound of footsteps, again, the sound of her heels against the hard floor alerted him to the presence of the young doctor.

This room wasn't sound proof, he could hear outside, though their voices were muffled, Jimmy had said something to her, something serious.

She came in loaded down with things, a bag over her shoulder, boxes in her hands and he instantly became curious, what was she up to this time?

She'd left her impression last time, he'd studied that drawing over and over again, over the weekend, nothing better to do. He learned so much about her in that little bit of insight, those lines and shadows.

Exploitable things that she hadn't even realized she'd given him.

"Morning." She said and glanced at the guards. "We'll be done in an hour."

The guards looked at Jimmy who nodded his head, shooting a glance in J's direction before turning around and leaving the room.

They were alone.

Harley placed her bag down and he watched as she adjusted her position in her seat. She looked very much the same as last time, professional, almost stuffy like the others but he'd been burned before by this girl, he knew to look beyond her costume.

"So, how are you today?" she asked politely.

He didn't answer her, tilted his head down and eyed her dangerously.

"Come on, you're not going to say anything?" She asked curiously.

"Why don't you draw me another pretty picture?" He taunted back and she smiled.

"Well, maybe I will. Though maybe another time."

He sneered and leaned back in the chair, adjusting his hands in the straitjacket.

Harley inwardly sighed in relief, she'd been worried for a second that he wouldn't speak at all to her. She'd taken a risk the last time, one that thankfully had paid off.

"So..." The situation felt awkward now, he was speaking and so was she but what did she start with?

The rule of thumb was, for the therapist to explain how things were going to work, that the patient had the right to feel as comfortable as possible, to share anything and everything they felt they needed to share but she didn't want to go down that path.

He'd probably heard it a thousand times before.

"So." he agreed, staring at her with those piercing gray blue eyes.

She could have sworn they were green, she made sure not to stare for a long period of time but she'd thought his eyes were green.

There was nothing for it, either she spoke or she was going to waste the hour.

"How has your weekend been?" she asked as if talking to someone at a coffee shop."

He gave her an incredulous look, as if to say. _Really sweetheart? You're going down that rabbit hole?_

He answered her though, contemplating his answer. "Enlightening."

"Enlightening, that's an interesting word to use." She tucked a strand of hair back and pulled out her folder. "Want to give me details?"

"Well I finally got my hands on some decent reading material." He purred, Harley felt a tingle in the back of her skull at the sound, it sounded so different in person. "So at least I had something, entertaining to occupy my time."

"You're bored." She stated obviously, though her voice was as smooth and even as she could make it.

"Well." He laughed, tilting his head back. "It's not exactly like we have a rec room downstairs."

She frowned, was he joking? They did have one. He noted the confusion on her face and grinned, showing her the new teeth. That was something no one from the newspapers had, the damage the batman had done to him and more importantly, the new grill he used, the obvious tattoo on his forehead.

"Oh, you think they actually let us use down there." He rolled his eyes. "I counted at least fifty-seven potential weapons down there, not including the ones they keep under lock and key."

Harley couldn't say she was surprised by that, a waste of money to make the place look more humane than it was. She thought it only served as a taunt to these people.

"They let you hold a basketball though." She said casually, keeping her opinion to herself. It might come off like she was trying to be sympathetic, she didn't believe he'd appreciate that.

"Oh, well. The boys out there can handle a little basketball." He rolled his head a few times, cracking his neck with loud pops.

Harley didn't write anything and she didn't say anything either, she'd come in with a plan but that simply she found herself in the need of improvising.

"So what you bet?" She tested carefully.

"What makes you think I bet anything?" It was her turn to give him an incredulous look.

"I know the guard, he's the betting kind." She said almost conspiratorially.

He grinned at her, his mouth pulled back in a sinister way.

"If I won, I'd get an extra hour down there, if I lost. I had to admit to a crime I hadn't been charged with to the DA."

"That... seems a big risk." she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Not really, Christopher sucks at basketball." He laughed and shifted his shoulder.

She stifled a laugh, remembering the game. "You don't like basketball though."

"That obvious?"

"I understand having to do things you don't want." she admitted.

"Oh, so you've been on twenty three hour lock down too?"

"No."

"Then you don't understand at all sugar." He hissed, still smiling.

Harley leaned forward. "Dr, Quinzel."

"Oh, Dr Quinzel." He purred and that feeling in her skull came back, there was sweetness laced with venom in that way he spoke her title.

"It's professional." She stated coolly.

"Oh, well we can't have unprofessional now can we?" He asked her just as coolly.

"No, we can't." She offered him a smile before she continued. "Not, this early in the game."

"Game huh? You like games Dr Quinzel.?" He asked in a hushed whisper.

"Love games." she retorted with that serene smile. "So how about we play one?"

"I'm game, get me out of this thing and I'll show you a great game."

"I'm sure you would but not happening." She stated with that smile. Leaning back and pulling something out of the bag. It was a second folder, the kind with clear sleeves.

Harley opened it up, showing the first picture, it was the earliest one she could find. She'd printed it off the computer, not finding it in his patients file.

Someone had captured a picture of him when he'd first appeared, he was talking on the phone.

"Oh would you look at that." He mused, staring at it. He laughed once and then glanced up at her. "So what's the game?"

"I show you a picture, I ask you a question and you give me an answer."

"Oh come on doc, you can surely do better than that."

"You don't know what I'm gonna ask." she challenged.

Harley watched as the Joker contemplated her offer. He made a dramatic excuse of tilting his head, running his tongue over his teeth and making loud clicking sounds.

"Alright doc, I'll bite."

"Okay, why purple?" she asked, pointing to the suit. "Of all the colors that you could have picked, you chose that purple."

"It was on sale." He said leaning back in. she shook her head.

"Right, I sincerely doubt that." she flipped the page, showing the next picture.

"Oh, you won't ask me to be honest?" He asked almost disappointed.

"I said give me an answer, I never said you had to be honest." she chided him with a hint of a smirk.

He seemed, amused by this.

The next picture was a still done by someone online, of his video to Gotham.

"Would you look at how long my hair was then?" he commented, looking at the picture like an old family photo album. "Amazing no one gave me a fashion ticket for that lot."

"Was less green too." she mused, curious about that. "How'd it get so green now?"

"Hair dye."

She snickered, looking down at the table.

She composed herself and flipped to the next one, it was of him hanging upside down, a cop had taken this one, it was from his patient folder.

Her question was again, unrelated to the event.

"How dizzy did you get?"

"You know, I don't see the point of this little game of yours." He sounded a little impatient for the therapy to suddenly begin.

"No point, come on answer."

"Well, it wasn't the first time I hung upside down, but well at that height, I'd have to say they cut me down before I got a nose bleed."

She watched with every picture as his eyes lit up or darkened, reading the subtle reactions that he wanted to hide. The batman, the other villains. The contempt he had for some of them.

She showed him a picture of a red haired woman, a villainess who had a radical Eco-terrorist streak.

"Oh, god her. Yeah, I know her." He stated with disdain. "Ivy, that's what she likes to be called. Poison Ivy."

"You act like that's the weirdest name out there." she said with a smile. "The Joker."

"My name has a purpose Dr Quinzel, hers is just a bad pun."

"What you think of her?" she was curious, as most of the other villains she'd shown him were male.

"Her, she's full of herself. Self important, dreadfully serious."

"You like your girls with some sense of humor huh?" she asked looking at the woman. "She's pretty though."

"Not that pretty doc, besides pretty only gets ya so far."

She inclined her head at the statement. Knowing not to ask, she'd already inquired a question about this picture and she doubted he'd answer a second.

She bit at her lip and he noticed.

"What doc?"

"Nothing." she shook her head and flipped the page.

"No, no, no." He shook his own head fervently. "Come on, what?"

"So if pretty doesn't cut it with you, what does?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Brains, sense of humor, an affinity to kill. An enjoyment of the finer things in life, watching suffering, watching people tear each other apart by their own natures. I'm a simple man."

"With new expensive tastes.' She teased, he grinned at her.

"Keeping up with the times, ten years ago, that look worked. Now days, well the stadiums change and you're expected to update the costume. Look at Cher."

"You don't seem to mind the money." She said placing a hand on her chin and resting her elbow on the table.

"It helps." he admitted but left it at that.

Harley pointed back at the folder. "So why don't you really like her?"

"Well, here's a bit of truth for you. She's a feminazi, which I don't necessarily care about. Hey to each their own but my theory is, stay out of my business."

"She gets in your business?"

"More like, she doesn't move out of it the times we cross paths."

"Are you by any chance anti feminist?"

"I honestly don't care." He laughed, his tone changing to a playful leer. "Male, female, it's all the same to me. All bleed, all die, I'll kill a woman just as quickly as I'll kill a man."

"That's, fair I guess."

"Oh, are you one of those women? You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who want equality but also want the man to do the heavy lifting and pay for dinner, open car doors for them?"

His taunt made her cringe, no she wasn't the kind who wanted that.

"Nope, also you know where the whole chivalry thing started right?" she felt the need to prove a point. "In the days of the revolution of France, noblemen would open the doors for their wives and children so they could go meet the mob first. While the mob captured the family, the man would run out the back."

"So, not just a pretty face."

"No, not just a pretty face." she agreed.

She skipped a couple of pages, thinking it was time to try a new game. One that hopefully didn't get her hand bitten off.

"I hope you don't mind, I didn't eat." she said putting the page down.

She opened the box with the sandwich. She'd gotten it at the deli, one she'd heard rumors of his men frequenting.

Before he could say anything she took a large bite of it. Chewing on it while staring at him.

"You want some/" she asked him casually.

He stayed still, didn't say a word to her, didn't budge a muscle.

"Come on, it's good. I got it at the deli, I got a strawberry tart and a salad too. It isn't gonna hurt my feelings if you have some." When he didn't reply she shrugs. "Suit yourself."

She took another large bite, making the sounds someone would make when they're enjoying their food. She's seen what they feed them here, having been forced to go into the kitchen to chase after a minimum security patient who'd wandered in there and was playing the pots and pans like a drum set.

It was ridiculous, portions that were unrealistic and at least D grade level.

Blackgate had better food, though she'd heard on the grapevine that the high profile criminals, the leaders of gangs and drug lords kept their own supplies coming in.

"I got a question for you.' she puts her sandwich down in the box, leaving the lid open so he can look at it. "If you had a choice between here and Blackgate, which would you prefer?"

He raised one of his very none existent eyebrows, she wondered if those grew back. "Which do you think I prefer?"

"I would think Blackgate." she said honestly. "I'm sure you weren't pleased to be transferred."

"Well, my lawyer arranged it."

Harley snorted, shaking her head and opening her cup. Taking a long sip of coffee.

"Then you got fucked." she joked, Harley watched as his lips turned back up into a smile. Then the sound came out, slow at first, then louder and harder.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha." He emphasized every laugh with a long breath and she couldn't help the infectious smile.

"Did I say something funny?"

"Hilarious." He purred once he was done laughing. "Give me a bite."

Harley can't hide the triumphant look on her face, if he liked that. He'll love this next trick.

Completely ignoring Dr Stevens warning not to get too close, Harley gets up the box in hand. She walked over to his side of the room, glancing at the little window that was in the door, no one was watching them.

She pushed her luck, sitting herself down on the table, her leg hairs away from his.

He doesn't hide the approving look at the smoothness of her skin.

She lifts the sandwich up to his mouth, they won't have to touch but this moment could be classified as incredibly intimate none the less.

He leans forward and takes a large bite, a deep rumbling sigh ripples through him as he takes his time chewing.

"Like?" she asks coyly.

He doesn't say anything but the sounds he makes is all the answer she needs.

He doesn't hesitate to take another bite, then another. Each time, he seems hungrier. Starved.

He eats the whole thing, when he'd taken the final bite. Nearly biting her finger with it, she brushed her hands on her lab coat and smiled.

"Thirsty?" she asked and he nodded, still enjoying the final bite.

Harley leaned back and grabbed her cup, taking her own sip, it was still hot. The thermal cup doing its intended job.

She offers it to him and he takes eager sips.

"Sweet." he observed with a satisfied sigh.

"I like three sugars." she shrugged, putting the cup to her lips and taking another drink.

He leans back in his chair, his eyes taking the opportunity to glance her over, some might think he was taking advantage, getting a good look at her body but she got the nagging suspicion that he was doing something, less, predictable.

"I'm right handed." she states calmly. "That means my left side should be weaker, if you got out of that jacket you'd probably want to go for my right leg though, it's got a little scar near the knee."

She said it like it was no big deal, like realizing he was sizing her up and figuring what would be the easiest way to kill her was nothing more than another game.

"You're a smart little cookie aren't you?" He asked, appreciating the observations.

"I am, very smart." she agreed. "So how about we don't play that game?"

"Oh and what if that's the game I want to play Dr Quinzel?"

"Then you're going to go back to your cell, bored out of your mind day after day. They'll reduce your shower days because they won't have to prove anything to me. You won't get to eat down at the cafeteria on the days we have sessions and you'll be lucky to get an hour down in the yard. For what? The thrill of maybe five minutes of watching me writhe in pain, stop gasping and start turning purple?"

"Oh you keep talking like that you're gonna have to do more than buy me breakfast." He teased but she saw his eyes cloud at the image.

"You can make me stop breathing, sure and you'll have your fun with it but then what?" she asks, leaning in a little. "You loose your one chance of long term entertainment you have."

"Oh, you think you can, entertain me?"

"I'm entertaining you now aren't I?" she smiled confidently, maybe showing more confidence than she really had. "So up to you Mr J, you can get your five minutes of self gratification right now. Hell, I'll even undo the jacket and make it fun for you or, you can keep me around and let me show you my bag of tricks."

"You promise a lot to a man." He said in a sort of groan, the kind that would have made her smirk if it'd been one of her dates.

"I'll make it worth the sacrifice." She promised.

"You saying you're that good?" He leaned in close, so that his face was nearly touching her stomach. All he had to do was lean in just an inch and he'd have his lips on her knee, she hid the sudden warmth at the idea far, far back in her mind. His eyes were looking into her eyes, focused completely on her irises.

Harley leaned forward, so that their eyes were leveled. If she leaned her lips in they'd be kissing.

"I'm that good." she assured and leaned back, he did the same thing.

"Well, well, well. It looks like you've put me in quite the predicament Dr Quinzel." He purred gruffly.

"So what's it gonna be Mr J? Death or... life?"

He threw his head back, his hair tousling a little as he did. He laughed harder this time, so hard she worried he might choke on the laughter. When he stopped, leaning back in, encouraging her to do the same, so that they were face to face. His eyes cloudy with something she couldn't read but knew was something akin to excitement, murderous or otherwise, she didn't know. His voice was low, husky and full of dark promises.

"Oh, we are gonna have so much fun together." he promised and she smiled, showing her own white teeth.

"Lets do it." She agreed before leaning back and sliding off the table. "Strawberry alright?"

A/N So suicide squad is full of Easter eggs, for the fans of more than the movie, I've placed some of my own here and there. Lets see if you can catch them. Hehe. So, oh my god it's been a crazy few days. Sorry this took so long but if you read Chaos, you know the whole thing that happened there. I dedicated a lot of time to the last chapter there and put everything else on hold. So I only just got this edited up. I hope you guys like it, hopefully they're both in character. I do want the edgy Harley, not the timid little mouse. Also, I hope I did Jared Leto justice in this one. It's not easy getting him right. I know that they have a lot of canon for J and Harley, mad love being the prime example BUT... That version of them was in the 90's, which was after all a cartoon, the comic is edgy in comparison but again based on that 90's version. Here is the thing, I grew up in the 90's. In that particular time, women did choose their careers over their family life. They sacrificed femininity for it, you had to be hard in a man's world sort of thing. That has changed since then. The same story line just doesn't work now. Especially the fact that she got pulled in so quickly, Harley is supposed to be this incredibly intelligent woman, the top of her class, eager, ambitious and the first story he gives her is the first line she falls for. It's just too extreme, even for them. Also, the character of Joker up to that point is what you'd call, TV psychopath/sociopath character. The truth is, both conditions are capable of making connections, it's just incredibly difficult and once that person becomes a connection, they're hard pressed to suddenly stop being so. It's got some great points in it, the fact that he uses her, that's obvious, the fact that he learns so much about her, again very Joker to do but for him to feel nothing for her int hat time. It's just, unrealistic. I hope to hopefully portray an updated, realistic version of that dynamic between them. I also want to keep Harley as a strong character and not so much the 'doormat' Cause honestly, to be the Queen of crime, at the joker's side? You couldn't just be a doormat. He'd get bored really quick with that. Also, for fans of the original cartoon. Remember these lines. "Baby, you're the greatest!"

Joker said that after Harley shoots him, not realizing it's the fake gun. When she's willing to pull that trigger, she's not the doormat, she's not the smart girl pretending to be stupid. What does that tell all of you?

Also, yes I have kept some of the newer comic pieces in this story, including that Harley is implied to be bi, though honestly I could never picture her with Poison Ivy, I have a theory on it but I won't add it here. So hope you like, please send me reviews, even though something is terribly wrong with the site's ability to show me the reviews. 'taps her review babies in their reinforced tank of sadness' don't worry babies, I love you. I get copies of you in my e-mail! Um, sorry the crazy came out there. Lol.

Anyway, loe you all. Thanks for the support and as always enjoy the ride. This one, is gonna be a bumpy one.


	6. The art of sliding by

Chapter 6 - The art of sliding by.

Harley leaned against the door of her apartment with an exhausted sigh, she was too young to feel so tired.

She threw her keys and jacket on the small chair by the door and rubbed her eyes.

She'd pulled double shifts. Slept in the office for the past three days and this was the first time she was going to see her bed.

"You can't keep this up Harls." she told herself, her back so tense, neck feeling like she was going to let it fall off with her head.

How long had she been doing this? Years? Decades?

It was starting to catch up with her.

Starting? It'd been on her for a long time, it was just, now she felt it.

She thought getting the job at Arkham would somehow make things easier, it seemed she worked harder now than she ever did. Which was saying so much.

Had she slept since she was a child?

When she'd made the decision to become a doctor, a psychiatrist, she'd been eleven years old. She'd believed that the career was exactly what she needed to become, what she was meant to be but it hadn't been easy.

She sat herself down on the couch, sighing in relief to be off her feet. Who said doctors sat around all day?

"I should have studied business." she groaned and pulled her hair out of the bun it was in.

Harley had graduated High school at sixteen, against all odds, taking night classes at Gotham community collage for her completion program, earning herself some collage credits too. With gymnastic practice, it was a miracle she knew what the word sleep meant.

No wonder she was a mess, some nights, she'd slept only two or three hours. Taking naps in between practice and class. Using the time between her turn to use the bars as study time.

Credit after credit, class after class. No parties, no fun, no anything. Just gymnastics and school.

Not all of it came so easy though, some of it had been harder and she was grateful she had the capacity to absorb it all. She thought of her brain like a computer processor, she'd worn it down till she was nearly mad.

She'd needed that madness, to do what she'd accomplished. To cram four years of undergrad in two, forget spring break because she was underage anyway, forget what summer was, do everything and anything to rise to the top.

Like something was chasing after her, growling and clawing at her back, trying to pull her down and into the depths of darkness. She had to become this, she had to get into medical school and become better than anyone else. Move faster, be harder.

To be twenty two and a doctor, impossible, UN-doable but she'd done it.

She had that right to fame at least, one of the youngest doctors in the US, not even twenty six and at the later end of her residency.

It felt so... unreal but she'd done it all. She'd crammed so much information, she'd sacrificed all of that life, her adolescence, her childhood all in the hopes of becoming this, this thing.

Maybe that's why now her day off meant so much to her, why she took full advantage and now crammed fun in like she'd studies then.

Not tonight though, she had the night shift tomorrow, she'd take advantage now and sleep. Catch up on every sleep deprived moment she'd endured.

Deprive her mind of any thoughts that weren't happy ones, refuse any calls that weren't life or death.

She pulled herself up, leaving a trail of clothes in her wake as she made her way to her bedroom.

"Maybe I'll sleep forever." she mused as she pulled the blankets down, crawling in, not even bothering with her pj's.

She grabbed onto her pillow and nuzzled it like a teddy bear.

Strangely, the last thing she thought of was the Joker.

He'd been her patient for two weeks now, they'd had six sessions, none of them a dull moment.

Except that today, she'd completely embarrassed herself with him.

 _Her eyes started to flutter closed, she was holding her head up by her hand, too many double shifts, catching up on paper work, med runs, other patients._

 _He was talking about an article she'd found in today's paper, showing it to him and asking his opinion on the upcoming election of the new DA, an event she knew he always took great pleasure in weighing in on._

 _The last one, well he wasn't around anymore._

" _Are you listening to me?" He asked, leaning forward._

" _Huh? Yeah, sorry." She brushed the loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Go on."_

" _Dr Quinzel, you're looking... tired." He mused, eyeing her with amusement. "You're not, getting bored of our sessions already?"_

" _No, no. I'm so sorry." She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. Putting her hand over her mouth to cover the yawn. "I've just, been working a lot."_

 _His eyes had changed, she frowned in confusion. The amusement in the way he stared was gone, left behind was contemplation._

" _What?"_

" _You, wear contacts?" He asked her curiously._

 _She shrugged. "Sometimes, honestly I only need these... for reading and writing."_

" _Haven't seen ya read anything to date doc, how's about ya take em off?"_

" _You, want me to take them off?" she repeated the words._

" _I do." He smiled at her. "So you're not from Gotham?"_

" _What? Yeah, I am." She said alarmed._

" _You don't... sound like a Gotham girl."_

" _Oh god." she realized what he was talking about, in her state of exhaustion, she'd let her accent slip._

" _I'd say, Brooklyn." He teased, grinning wide at her. "So I'm in the presence of a New York girl."_

" _No, definitely Gotham." She corrected. "I, spent some time in New York growing up."_

 _She winced, she'd just slipped up and given up personal information. Nothing too detrimental, still a rookie mistake._

" _Oh come on doc, was gonna figure it out eventually. You're work voice, it's too... clean. Like you hear foreigners who learn English. Not... the ones who have to learn it when they get here, the ones who speak it by training. Pronounce their words correctly, don't use slang. That was you, I'm glad to hear your native tongue."_

 _Harley's face went red with embarrassment. She didn't want anyone to hear that accent here, there was a strange association with it when people found out she'd lived in Brooklyn. Didn't matter that it'd been years ago and that her last span in New York wasn't really spent in Brooklyn._

" _You trying to hide who you really are Dr Quinzel, you know maybe we should rotate the roles and I can play therapist and you can wear the straitjacket."_

" _Oh, you'd like that huh?" she leaned forward, giving him a smile. "I think we'll keep the roles we've got."_

" _Come on, what cha gotta loose?" He coaxed but she shook her head._

" _Nope, you're the patient, I'm the doctor." she reminded him with a sigh. "I start letting you play therapist, god knows how many patients we'll end up with."_

" _You know, I've probably got more right to call myself a therapist than you do."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Oh really?"_

" _I'm much, older than you." He stated and leaned back in his seat. "What are you, nineteen?"_

" _Ha ha, very funny."_

" _Well, you're young. Too young to be here. You should be reaching your thirties, you either look much, much younger than you are or... you are just, that good."_

 _She had to force down the urge to tell him._

" _How old are you?" He suddenly asked, eyeing her. "Cause I don't think you're the age you should be."_

" _Guess." She said with a smile. It was dangerous, not a game a doctor should play with a patient but he'd sparked her interest and Harley had already noticed one very vital thing about him. You had to be spontaneous, come in with a plan and be prepared to throw it out the window at a moments notice._

" _Oh, a guessing game. What do I win if I guess correctly?"_

 _Harley bit her lip, pondering the question. What could he get for it?_

 _He answered for her._

" _If I guess... your age. I get one free question, anything I want to know you'll tell me. Honestly, truthfully and no holding back."_

" _Oh, you're gonna have to guess a lot more than that to earn that boon." she laughed. "Otherwise I get the same."_

" _Oh, I'd be alright with that doc." He rolled his neck lazily. "All's fair after all."_

 _Inclining her head, she stared at him with a mix of amusement and apprehension. Would be play by his own game if they tried this?_

" _Honestly? No holds back?" she repeated and he nodded._

" _I'm a man of my word."_

 _She laughed again, shaking her head. "That's... come on Mr J, even I can't believe that."_

 _He looked, offended. "When the Joker gives his word, he means it. Don't insult me little girl."_

 _His voice had dropped into a growl, sending shivers up and down her legs. There was something powerful about his growls, as powerful as his laughs._

" _Okay, fine. We'll play." she put down her glasses, letting him see her face._

" _Hair too." He ordered and she gave him a puzzled look. "Need to see you, natural."_

 _With a sigh, Harley pulled her hair down and let it flow naturally around her face. Making sure it didn't obstruct her eyes. She watched him give a silent sound of approval and he ran his tongue over his teeth, making a loud clicking sound._

" _Well doc, I can see that you hide quite a bit more than you let on." He teased._

" _You've seen me with my hair down before." she reminded him, when he was out at the yard. Her hair had been down and she hadn't been wearing her glasses._

" _Oh but that was at a distance, not the same at all." He purred._

" _Okay, so how old am I?"_

 _Joker scrutinized her carefully, taking in every detail of her face, her neck, looking down at her hands._

" _Hold your palms up for me." he ordered suddenly and she frowned. "Don't make faces, just do it."_

" _Okay." she did as he asked and he looked at them for a very long time. "Didn't know you were a palm reader."_

" _Shut it." he ordered with a snap and leaned forward, staring more carefully at her right hand, then her left. "Twenty... five."_

 _She couldn't help it, her eyes widened and her jaw went slack._

" _How did you..." she could have lied, easily but the fact that he'd just done that, so easily, no questions..._

 _He threw his head back and laughed at her, the trademark sound of that laugh filling the room._

" _Surprised doc?" He asked with utter triumph._

" _No, seriously how did you do that?" she demanded again._

" _Ah, but If I told you that then you'd loose the magic sweetheart." He shook his head. "It's all about illusion."_

 _She sighed, knowing he wasn't going to tell her. "I thought you were a comedian, not a magician."_

" _I'm an entertainer." he drawled with enjoyment at her expense. "A real entertainer knows to dabble in all of the arts."_

" _Okay, so you win." She said but then frowned. "How do I know you didn't somehow look me up?"_

" _Please, like I could-"_

 _She cut him off._

" _I have full confidence that if you wanted to, you could."_

 _He smirked. "Well, it's nice to have your confidence Dr Quinzel, such a hard thing to have. Only trust is harder to achieve."_

 _She didn't answer him, there's truth in that little taunt._

" _I haven't looked you up as you so delicately put it doc, not yet at least." He shrugged his bound shoulders before continuing. "So, your turn."_

" _That's not fair, I don't get the full view." She winced again, catching how it might come across. He chuckled at the accidental implication but he let it slide._

" _Wouldn't help you anyway, you don't know how to do it."_

 _Harley stared at him for a long time, it was difficult. The things that would traditionally tell you the approximate age of a person weren't there, he was... too changed._

 _No gray in the green of his hair, the tattoos obscuring any lines, his eyes, that was the only thing left of him that she considered truly human and even that... even they revealed nothing._

 _Still he was much older than she was. When she was a teenager he was already an adult, not even a young twenties, later at least. That meant over ten years difference between them._

" _Forty four?." she guessed after a long silence._

 _He threw his head back, making a strange face and she got the sinking feeling she'd gotten it wrong._

 _He had a faked pained look on his face when he looked back down at her. "Do I really look that old?"_

" _You're, hard to read." she admitted. "You look, younger but you can't be because I was a kid when you were starting out."_

" _It's all about the details doc, the details are what matter." He explained and suddenly, Harley felt like she was sitting in a classroom and he was the teacher. "I think you understand that better than most but you're not... quite there."_

" _So, you win this round." She sighed, feeling disappointed in herself for failing this. It's just, his skin gave nothing away. The chemicals robbing all natural traits, everything about him screamed that he was more than he was._

" _I did win." He purred, simply pleased with himself. "So, I get my prize."_

" _You do." She admitted. Feeling her gut turn. What would he ask?_

" _Oh, I'm not gonna ask you now." He informed her and she scowled at him. "I want the question, to be really special."_

Harley was asleep before the memory of the session could continue, her whole body fatigued, her mind even more so.

The concern of that future question nothing more than a cluster of words somewhere in her dreams.

They were not only words in the Joker's mind.

Across Gotham, deep in the Narrows where Arkham called home, he sat in his cell looking through a file..

Harley hadn't disappointed, that pretty little mind of hers quick on the uptake.

Even with all of this new security it wasn't out of his control to get information. Just required more careful planning.

Third shift guards, weren't so vigilant and the orderlies could easily be paid off. They needed the money, they might feel shame for it later but he knew Frost would always pay up, would always make sure everything was in order in the time of his absence.

It'd taken a week but his second had managed to accumulate all the information he could find on Harleen Quinzel, photos, articles, records, both school and hospital. A lot more than he'd expected to find but not enough.

Little girl had already lived a very, busy life.

The folder would be out of his hands before Jimmy came in, he would have to read through the night, that was fine. Not like he could sleep anyway and he refused the cocktail of pills they tried to feed him.

She'd said she was proceeding with the paperwork to get him off them, she didn't see the point since they didn't seem to be helping.

He'd been right about her age,

Young, so very young and already so brilliant, determined, driven.

Those were all things he could exploit, would when the time was right but she'd be harder to crack than some of his other victims.

Medical records proved that she knew what pain was, a gymnastics champion, regional, national events in her youth. A scholarship that paid for much more than it should have, because she'd been that determined not to fail.

She was capable of the impossible, she'd become a doctor in an ungodly amount of time by sheer will power.

That was something he could work with, will power was good. Because porcelain dolls were only fun to look at but not play with.

Night schools, summer schools but no social life that Frost could find, he wasn't surprised. The woman spent most of her time here, he didn't know what she did in her off time. Because she didn't seem to have it.

Today she'd looked worn down, in six sessions over two weeks she'd managed to hide it but not today, not with him.

Still tired as she'd been, she'd managed to challenge him, to be the most interesting thing in Arkham.

Today was important though, if his plans were to work. He wouldn't spend a year here, six months tops. No more than that but he'd have to work her over very carefully.

She was no stranger to a con man.

Nicholas Quinzel, the name seemed, familiar. He had to flip through the newspapers to find it, her father had been killed by a rich drunk driver who'd gotten off scott free.

He remembered the article, because he'd over heard some of his older henchmen talk about it. Quinzel was a con man, not particularly amazing at it but decent enough. He ran in the smaller circles, back when the mob ran this city.

Back when it was impossible to become anything, because it wasn't enough to be brilliant, to be capable, it had to do with your blood.

The batman, he'd changed all that, and so had he.

Now blood was only that, blood. Red and splattered all over the place with no meaning other than the fact without it, you died.

The mob had lost control of itself long before he'd started playing on the board and it would never again strangle this city as it had.

Gotham was his and in his kingdom, blood meant nothing, only the strong criminals would rise to the top but now, those with humble beginnings had the opportunity to show their capacity.

Gotham, could shine once more.

Because he did want it to shine, to be the spotlight in the world, not just America but the world as the place to watch, the place to awe and fear.

He saw the artistry in chaos, his mistress. That beauty could exist along side her, because she was a beautiful element. The past for all its crime, for all the violence was nothing more than another form of repressed order. Dirty cops, dirtier crime lords who had no respect for the craft, no respect for the privilege they shared.

He would never make that mistake, this city still deserved a better class of criminal. He was the standard now, he was that class.

 _So beautiful._ He thought as he flipped to a set of pictures. _So very beautiful._

As long as chaos stayed at his side, which she always did, there would be fight in him, give him whatever drug they wanted, fry his brain till he was nothing but a vegetable, his soul was rooted in this city and those roots ran deep, even if he died, which eventually he would. The very memory of him would continue to make the city tremble. They'd wonder, is he really dead? How could he still be alive?

The file gave him little about her personal life, it seemed that Harley kept her secrets close to her chest and he'd have to pry them out of her unwilling hands.

Still, there was a part of her that wanted to share, wanted to open up and let go of that other side. The mask, today he'd seen it fall off.

 _He'd spoken nonsense for about fifteen minutes, just watching her sleep, because she had fallen asleep through his conversation about the new DA, then he'd suddenly changed it to the differences between a mallet and a baseball bat. Her eyes still open, a byproduct of her many sleepless nights, that strange place between full REM sleep and waking, a place that in theory you could employ hypnotism, if he believed in that shit, her breathing had slowed and her head had lulled into her hand._

 _When he stated that the mallet left a far more impressive blood splatter, she hadn't reacted in the normal way. Her eyes had dilated of their own accord and he wondered, just for a second..._

" _I've seen a baseball bat utterly destroy someone's skull, left them unrecognizable. It's fascinating you know?" He purred, keeping his voice low, soothing as not to startle her awake._

" _Mhm." she mumbled in her sleep._

" _I prefer knives, they're more personal you understand but well blunt force trauma can be, entertaining too."_

 _She gave him a little smile, not a polite one, a real one, like she understood exactly what he meant._

" _Guns are too quick, an amusing weapon when it comes down to it but knives, there are so many things you can do with them."_

 _The comment should have surprised her, done something but she nodded and the mumbled words she muttered next confirmed a growing suspicion inside of his brain._

" _I get the knives are intimate but I think that maybe, the big bat and mallet are more entertaining."_

Then she'd started falling into that deeper realm of sleep and he'd woken her up, pretending that he'd been talking about the new DA, well if he got his way, the knives and baseball bat would be utilized on the attorney.

The mask had settled back into place the second she realized she'd fallen asleep in front of him. It was a clever little mask too, the glasses, the hair, the lack of extravagant makeup.

She was beautiful but there was something missing, when she'd pulled her hair down, with the glasses off he saw more potential for improvement. He'd love to see her done up, jacked up as the younger generation called it. She needed a little color, something else.

J didn't normally get an opportunity to work on a subject for so long, his offspring normally came out in the flash of an event, with a six month deadline? J should be able to create a masterpiece.

Harley would be his greatest work, she would outshine every other of her future brothers and sisters, his Mona Lisa.

It had been a long time since he'd got to play scientist, a long time since a subject worth his time came along.

So young, younger than anyone else and it gave an opportunity to go more in depth.

Since his last arrest, since his talk with his rival. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

Ticking clocks.

He wasn't getting younger, his other children had been... disappointments. Bats had a point, most of them were dead, hadn't survived their first year and somewhere inside him, he craved, something spectacular, something that people would talk about for years.

 _Harley Quinn_ , she would be that piece, the creation that all of Gotham spoke of for years to come. For the next six months he'd figure it out, he'd test her, he'd push her, give her the trinkets she wanted from him and in exchange he'd find the breaking points of her mind, her soul.

He'd decided that today, when he'd seen what lay under there, if only for a second and he knew beyond any doubt that chaos had sent her for him to mold, his future protege, the one who'd expand his reign in his name.

 _Harley Quinn, the Jester._

His future, his masterpiece.

His legacy.

A/N So lets go with the obvious bone pick here shall we? Yes, I know I crammed her education into an incredibly short amount of time and that it does seem, almost impossible to have achieved but, let me tell you what I found in my research for the series of Chaos and this one, thanks to a reader who pointed me in the direction of the behind the scene's art book. OH god, I hate that I don't have 24 bucks to buy it! We have most definitely been denied a HELL of a lot of Joker. Harley's age is obviously on her record, July 20th, cool she's a Cancer, the issue is the year. 1990. Yes, Margot Robbie is 26 but the continuity of the film is WAY off. Cause if you look back to her first arrest, which is in 2009, what you get is that she was with Joker since she was 19. Does anyone else see the very large issue with that? One of the youngest doctors in the US to date is 22 and she started collage at 12, after being home schooled. Yes I looked that up. Lets be serious, we love Harley, we do but can anyone seriously see her doing that? Cause I don't and nineteen is just, not possible. So, yes I've had to fix a few things. Number one, yes she crammed her ass off. Yes you can in the US graduate earlier, it's just very, very hard to do and requires a lot of dedication. Which I hope you guys can believe Harley has in my... 'Universe' second thing I'm having to do, is fudge the dates of her birth, July 20th is fine, that can stay but the year has to be changed. So sorry to Margot Robbie, fortunately, it's unlikely she or any other cast member read this so I guess it's okay. I gotta make her older. And this is pushing it, so I'm gonna have her be born 1984, That means that she's going to be turning 32 years old this year. Hey, she'll be a really hot young looking 32 year old. I know a lot of women that age who don't look it. Hey did you guys know that Jared Leto is 44? He does not look it at all. Still, for continuity purposes, since my goal is to bridge the three movies of Heath Ledger's Joker and Jared Leto's, I gotta make him younger to make this work. I'll work that one out and get back to you guys, cause I'm having a little bit of an issue working that one out. If you guys have an opinion for it, then I'd happily take your input.

So, I have never done this before but I NEED to take a poll. It is vital actually for the canon of the stories. Actually I got two polls that I will run here and in Chaos. You know I'm half tempted to send this story and chaos into DC, nah, I'm kidding. Not gonna happen. Anyway, I have figured out a way to make the whole Robin thing work, I looked at it all. The comics, the animated film. All of it, now here is the thing. I've come up with two possible plots. I can do either one but I'd like for you guys to weigh in, you guys tell me which one you'd prefer to see and that's the one I'll go with,

So first poll. Who killed Robin. A little fact you guys may not know, Harley did not exist when robin was originally killed. That comic was published in the 80's and Harley was created in the 90's so of course she wasn't involved. The problem is, DC never updated that particular event with the rest of its reset to include her. Which is why, the die hard fans are up in arms about the whole 'Joker killing him and not Harley.' First question. WHO, do you want to have kill Robin? Harley or Joker? Like I said, I got a plot for both scenarios that will totally make sense.

Second question, there are two versions of the events. There is the original comic version and there is the newer version. The older comic is called a Death in the family, the newer version. Which has a animated movie is called. Under the red hood. If you guys haven't seen either, you can do a quick google search and wiki it. I really do wanna heard your opinion on this and I promise, it'll be worth it.

As always, I love you all. Thank you so much for your on going support, especially now. The stories are getting a little harder to write because we're moving into some intense areas so every review, every message sent is a reminder that you guys are out there and that what I'm writing is touching you. Oh, thank you to the reviewer Slytheringirl93 who said that she's considering my story canon. Honestly, there is no bigger compliment as far as I'm concerned. I know there are other authors who get far more feedback, who get a lot more favs and followers but I'm not disappointed with the amount I get because everything you guys say is so heartfelt and I wouldn't trade those few words for a million reviews or a million followers. So as always, thank you and all my love. See ya.


	7. Break my stride

Chapter 7 – Break my stride.

Harley stood in front of Mr J's cell, the guards standing ready as the door hissed, sliding open.

No one spoke as she stepped inside the room, the door didn't shut again and Taylor and Shane stood at the ready.

Harley held out the jacket in both hands and smiled sympathetically at her patient.

"Well, I can't say this isn't a treat doctor." He said in that velvet tone of his but she heard the anger in those words too.

He was unique in that regard, able to convey a multitude of feelings and emotions with such pleasant wording.

He was charismatic after all, a charmer, an entertainer.

There was no knowing whether that was because of the transformation or if it was the way he'd always been, she couldn't know and he wouldn't tell but she hoped after today, he'd come to trust her just a little.

He didn't and she saw no reason that he should, he trusted no one.

She was still the enemy, even with their little arrangement. She was a doctor and his view on her profession was both jaded and disappointed.

Maybe he did have more right to call himself a doctor than she did, he had these moments where she found him trying to shrink her, peeling away at something inside of her, until she covered it back up and moved the conversation out of that range.

She realized that he'd used that talent, those skills that were obviously self taught to under mind every doctor who'd crossed his path. How he got under their skins, unraveled them inch by inch and finally, destroyed them.

No one wanted to deal with him, he was a better doctor than they were.

She wanted to feel proud that she'd lasted two months with him but she got the feeling if she hadn't conned him, this would have ended a month ago.

Two months, that's how long he'd been her responsibility and it'd taken her that long to get this arranged, to have this done for her and it hadn't been easy to convince the board.

She was a resident, she still had to go through channels, maybe if he'd been a regular patient she would have been left to her own devices but because it was _him_ , they scrutinized any and every change she requested.

This one had been the biggest one.

"Would you put this on for me?" she asked gently.

Shane had agreed to let her try this, Taylor had called her insane but she hoped that in showing him that she wasn't afraid, that she was willing to go on a little faith, that he'd do the same.

It was a long shot and the likelihood that it would fail was high but she had to try.

He stared at her coldly, the progress they'd made all garbage in those blue eyes, he stared at her as if reevaluating the worth of her every breath.

It was one thing for other doctors to come and do this but for her to personally take charge of it?

Still, he put his arms out and allowed her to slip the sleeves of the straitjacket up his arms.

"Thank you." she whispered as she came behind him to strap him in.

He didn't answer.

There was a danger being so close to him, something feral, wild. She could believe that he wasn't human when she felt his breath under her fingers, heard the low way he growled as each strap locked into place.

Almost not human but she never forgot, he was.

"How are the sleeping pills helping now?" she asked casually as she did the last buckle.

He shifted in the jacket and again, offered her no answer.

In their two months, she'd gotten him off everything and with each removal of the cocktails of drugs her predecessors had him on, she saw a little more of the real man.

She'd weened him off the last of the anti psychotics, maybe this was the first time she was seeing the real Joker.

 _Maybe that isn't a good thing._

 _But it's what I wanted._

She sighed heavily, he'd closed off from her, she'd expected that too but it was alright, he'd open back up soon enough.

Or at least that's what she hoped.

She turned to the guards. "Ready."

Harley stepped out of the cell, the guards leading Mr J behind her, they walked down the familiar hallway. He said nothing to her or the guards, it was eerie not to hear his voice.

Like that first session where nothing had been said between them but this was different because this situation was less controlled. It was and wasn't part of her plan.

He was angry at her and she could feel it in waves from behind her, his eyes burning holes into her back.

What terrible fate was he thinking up for her? What was he thinking?

Slow and painful, something that would last for days, weeks, months, have her screaming till she couldn't scream anymore, till her tears dried up and all that was left was a shell.

That's what he'd do to her for this, like his brain needed help going to hell.

He'd given her too much credit, she'd actually seemed intelligent but he couldn't actually believe that she'd volunteer to do this.

He used these things as torture, plain and simple.

 _Fucking bitch._

Her name be-

Wait, why were they passing the ECT room?

Harley walked down the connecting hall to the elevators and pressed the down button.

The elevator opened and she stepped inside, holding it open for the two guards to take him inside. She had that smile on her face, her eyes bright.

What the hell was going on?

Water treatment?

The doors closed and she pressed the button for the last floor.

The rec room.

They rode in silence, his anger defusing itself. _Well Doctor Quinzel, you've surprised me again._

They exited the elevator once it reached the bottom floor and Harley surprised him again by coming up behind him, undoing the straitjacket.

Now he was interested.

It wasn't even their normal session day, when they'd told him she was coming to oversee his treatment, he assumed she was going to perform his ECT.

Shane helped get the jacket off and he shook his arms out, even that short time in the thing always irritated his shoulders.

"Okay boys, we'll be done... soon." Taylor and Shane looked at each other, they didn't look pleased.

She turned to look at him and motioned with her hand for him to follow her.

The rec room was an open expanse of floor space with multiple rooms, all of them clear glass so that the guards could easily see what was going on, cameras everywhere.

Patients in theory could interact here, both male and female and the idea was to make it impossible for anything unsavory or unethical to happen.

He knew for a fact it still did.

Harley took him to where the TV was, a few couches strung around the place.

"This is treatment now?" He asked curiously.

"this is treatment now." She agreed, sitting herself down in an armchair. She invited him to sit on the nearby couch

Harley stifled a laugh as he flung himself at it and laid down with his head on the arm. Putting his hands behind his head.

"So, real therapy." He said and she was glad to hear his tone had changed,, he wasn't angry with her anymore.

"Not exactly but well, wouldn't really be doing my job if I didn't try to help you." She crossed one leg over the other and picked up the remote she'd left on the chair. Harley had come down to set everything up during her lunch break. "You thought I was going to do your ECT?"

"It'd crossed my mind." he said smoothly.

"I got that fixed." He looked up at her. "No more treatments, I told you I would, you think I lied?"

"Don't know you well enough to believe you at face value, besides I didn't think you'd had enough fight to take on the others."

"Well I'm happy to have proved you wrong."

She nearly hadn't.

They'd all argued, so few of them agreeing that the treatments were doing nothing, that they weren't even helping him stabilize.

Some of them flat out said they didn't mean to stabilize him, only contain the monster. Criticizing her for taking him off the drugs, that she'd be dead in a week if she wasn't careful.

The only reason they'd let it go, was when she brought up the fact of his human rights.

Human.

Such a strange thing to have to fight for with a man like him.

Mr J, she'd told them was a variety of things, most of them terrible, horrifying things but he was still a human being and for all his wrongs, for all his crimes, they had to remember that one little fact.

When they forgot it, when they stopped thinking of him as a human being and started thinking of him as a monster, they would fall down a very dark and twisted place, leagues further down than he was.

She would treat him with respect, the respect he deserved, not as a criminal but as a person.

"This, won't be a regular thing, you understand?" she explained after a few minutes of silence.

"Hey, when in Rome." He stretched out, closing his eyes. "Probably too much to expect some grape soda huh?"

"I might convince one of the boys to get you one from the vending machine." She grinned. "Just, don't get used to this."

He was enjoying just lounging on the couch and she wondered if he did that sort of thing at home.

God, what was his home like?

"Oh, can't have us comfortable. I mean, it isn't like these nice couches compare to those hard metal chairs." he said with a wistful sigh. "Oh Doc, why would you take me away from those nice, back breaking chairs and that freezing room? You just, must not like me very much and you took away my favorite jacket."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her then, he said it with such perfect theater, a completely straight face and pout. It was, hard not to laugh.

He stared at her as she covered her mouth.

"Sorry but... you can be really funny when you want." she snickered again before hiding her fact for a second.

"That's my profession doc, I live to make people laugh, nice to hear yours for once. It's, pleasing."

Joker was, a rainbow. A multitude of colors fused into one assorted line up. Each color hiding even richer, deeper shades. She'd only brushed the surface of some of them and hadn't come close to others.

To be honest, if only with herself, she was a little afraid to.

When he was happy, he was a ball of energy, his smile, his laugh, the way he talked sucked you in so wonderfully. You felt like you were living in his stories, you could imagine yourself there. Sometimes he spoke like he was on stage and you imagined yourself in the audience and other times, he spoke more subtly, as if you were the only two people in the world, sitting somewhere intimate, like in front of a fireplace or, on one of those swings two people could sit on.

His voice transcended sound, it slipped into the other senses, he spoke of a smells and sometimes she swore she could smell it too, taste the food he missed. See the sights he'd seen, like being hypnotized.

Other times though, when he was agitated, when that anger came out. Those shades of red, the color of the god of war, his voice kept its velvet smoothness but it was a weapon, it was made for one purpose. To end you, bit by bit.

Not a bullet, a knife, slicing shallow and deep, he could take a sentence that was nothing but compliments and turn it into venom.

She never showed how it affected her but later, when she had a moment to be alone, she felt her whole body shake, felt herself crumble in overwhelming emotions. The power that man possessed inside of him, it could overload you with feelings that you didn't know you could feel.

Then there were the blues, the purples.

She considered that was the reason he liked purple over the other colors, it was a blending of anger and sadness, the green. Well, it was natural, much to the surprise of everyone. An effect of the chemicals he'd fallen into, she'd tried talking to a representative of the company, hoping to get a sample of it, see what was in the stuff but they refused to even meet with her.

She hadn't even mentioned Mr J by name but they still seemed adamant that they not get involved.

Like they already knew why she was calling.

Harley turned to the TV and pressed play, the footage she played caught his attention and he turned his head away from her to watch himself in the middle of a high speed chase.

"Ah, so we're going to talk about feelings today?" He inquired, watching as the Batman followed close behind his purple sports car.

She didn't answer him, just watched on as the chase pursued.

She heard him shift in his seat but she didn't turn around, this was about trust and if she showed weakness, she'd loose the opportunity completely.

The footage went on for another twenty minutes, changing from the chase to a shoot out with GCPD, security footage of heists she'd found, all of them him in his glory.

When she turned off the video and finally dared to turn around, she noticed that his eyes were dilated. His face relaxed but his hands twitching.

The smile on his hand intrigued her, there were very faint tan lines along his fingers from the many rings he supposedly wore, paler white on pale.

"Mr J..." she said, her voice feeling suddenly very thick with cotton. "I'd like to talk about when you were born."

J turned to face her, regarding her very carefully.

During their many weeks of this game of hers, she'd never asked something so personal, she'd never gone with the more traditional route of therapy. She looked calm but he took note of every single change in her demeanor.

She was agitated by something, something that wasn't him but also nervous about her new questioning, she wanted to make sure he was alright with this and she didn't know how to convey that without upsetting him.

He didn't miss the glance at his hands but he saw no reaction of fear, only curiosity.

"Well doc, even I can't remember that far back." he grinned at her. "I mean, do you remember being pushed out of your mother?"

"You misunderstand Mr J, I'm not talking about.. your physical birth, I'm talking about-" She moved her hand to gesture to him up and down.

Oh, that birth.

"Now why would you want to know about that Dr Quinzel?" He drawled and she licked her lips, looking away for a moment.

"Mr J, I would like to understand you a little better and... I think understanding that day would make all the difference. I know it's personal and if you don't intend to tell me anything we can turn on the TV again and I can channel surf until Shane tells us you got to go back to your cell. I think they have cable."

"How about you ask about my childhood instead?"

"Mr J, I don't want to know about him." she said suddenly and he was actually taken aback. So was she. "I'm sorry."

"For what? For being honest?" he quirked his head and grinned. "It's what I like about you Harley, you're not scared to speak your mind."

She leaned forward a little. "Mr J, if there was a way, for you to remember that life, you know, before would you want to? If there was a way for me to... let you see the truth of that past would it mean anything to you at all?"

That question took a minute to process.

First off, she was telling him she didn't believe that he remembered a damn thing about that past, which to a certain degree wasn't false. He had very little recollection of his former life, a thread here, a strand there but no one had actually just, said it before. Then, to care enough to ask his opinion on it.

People had tried to hypnotize him in the past it did nothing, digging up the past was a messy thing to do anyway but here she was, surprising him yet again with compassion, with asking him what he wanted.

"The past is a dangerous place, you start going down that way and..." he felt himself lost for words, for once. "No, I don't really find much use in the past. That man is dead and I am his son."

"That's a way to put it." She said quietly. "So it's not an inheritance you feel you should dig through? Isn't it your right to own it?"

"That inheritance isn't mine and I honestly don't care for it." He said honestly.

Harley smiled at him, that sweet natural smile that he'd grown to appreciate, even in the real world he rarely saw genuine sweet smiles like that.

Not for him at least.

"Okay then, well I suppose that answers your own question. No, I don't want to know about your childhood like that. I am interested in you, not your... father."

"Ah see now that's what a guy wants to hear, that his girl isn't coming home to meet his folks and suddenly feels attracted to his old man." he grinned and she giggled again, pearls of sound that were a soft music in his ears. The doctor had a sweet laugh, musical.

"Well, you might be surprised Mr J, I like older men." She grinned and adjusted her glasses. "So luckily for you, I'm not your girl."

"Nice to know, since you think I'm in my forties." He smirked. "And how are you not my girl doctor Quinzel, your the only doc I let near me, you come to this side of this place just for me. You're here right now to be with me."

She looked away, her face turning red as she realized she'd walked right into the joke. She covered her mouth again and he couldn't help laughing at her expense.

She was a mystery too, it intrigued him to watch her face change, she had secrets to hide.

"You want to know about the day I was born?" He asked, breaking the fits of laughter.

She sobered up quickly and nodded.

"Then tell me something about you."

J laid back down on the couch, adjusting himself more comfortably, laying his hands on his chest as if they were hanging out on a weekend watching TV and eating take out.

"You calling in your prize?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I want to know something about you, something interesting."

"So I tell you something interesting and you tell me about ACE chemicals?" she sounded skeptical.

"Exactly doc, give and take."

"Mr J, as I've mentioned, I'm the doctor, not you." she leaned forward and whispered it with a soft smile.

"And as I've told you, I'm better qualified." He whispered back. "Come on, what you got to loose doll face?"

"My sanity, my life?" take your pick." she leaned back in the chair.

"You think I'll use it against you?"

"I know you will."

"Well, that's beside the point doc, I could find out about it later on and use it anyway."

"True." She looked up at the ceiling and pulled her glasses off her face. "Okay, one interesting thing."

He motioned for her to get started. "I'm all ears."

"I can't swim." she said and he groaned a boo.

"That's an awfully boring piece of information."

"I'm not done." She sighed in exasperation.

"I never learned to swim, my mom signed me up for lessons and I went."

"Still boring as hell doc."

"Shut up."

"Oh, such language from a professional woman." He teased. "I like it."

"Would you like me to tell you this story or what?"

"Sorry doc, please continue."

"I went to lessons but we moved around so much when I was a kid, well I missed quite a few fundamental lessons. I can float well enough but you get me under the water and I'm a goner."

"Not interesting but a good thing for me to know, so drowning you would be a very boring way to go."

"Funny." she smiled and continued. Staring at the black screen on the wall. "I was at a school swimming event, mandatory and I was in the shallow end of the pool. As long as I stayed on the edges I was fine but I was ambitious, I hate loosing and I figured, how hard to learn something everyone else seemed able to do. So I started teaching myself to swim by watching the other kids, at first in the shallow end, I was fine and no one noticed that I had no clue what I was doing."

He said nothing as she spoke, she had his attention.

"I even managed to get under the water a few times, short moments but still. I did gymnastics, so moving around in crazy ways, well it comes naturally to me. There was a girl though, I don't know why she did it, I don't know if she knew why she did it either. I was right in the middle of pushing myself a little deeper into the pool and she came up to me, latched her arms around my neck and clung onto me. The force of what she did pushed me even further, I couldn't reach the bottom with my feet. She panicked."

"She was drowning you." He murmured.

"Yes." she whispered. "I think, I think she wasn't very good at swimming either because she had no clue what to do, she squeezed my neck, pulling my head further down into the water so that she could get above the surface and I couldn't breath."

"She was killing you." He sounded husky now, enthralled.

"She nearly did."

"But you're alive now."

"She was still behind me but I balled up my fists and started hitting her, anything I could catch, hard enough that I left bruises, she let my neck go but I was still under the water, I didn't know how to pull myself up to the surface."

"It's a beautiful moment, that perfect second before everything fades into nothing, isn't it Dr Quinzel?" he purred.

"There's this moment, when the pain stops hurting, I can't find the word for it but it's just, tingles."

"Euphoric."

"Someone grabbed me and pulled me up. I coughed up a lot of water."

"What happened to the girl?"

"They had to do CPR on her, when I hit her, I apparently made it hard for her to float." she smiled bitterly. "I got in trouble, she didn't."

"Ah, well that's life for ya doc, the people who do the wrong thing usually get off scott free."

"You didn't."

"No, not this time but you'd be surprised how often I do get away with things."

"I bet." she smiled. "Your turn."

"Hmm, my turn, don't you want to take a break, check on the guards. Get me that grape soda?"

"Nope, your turn." She made the same hand gesture he did, urging him to remember.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, debating how to put this, how to tell her.

"I may not remember much about my former life Dr Quinzel but I can promise you that what I tell you now is as clear as crystal."

"Will it be the truth then?"

"Well, after that little story you so graciously entrusted to me, yes."

She shifted to stare at him, her hand resting on the arm of her chair.

He closed his eyes and she could almost imagine going back with him, the room filled with his energy again, in that hypnotic way he had and she didn't even notice when she'd tucked her legs up into the chair.

"Falling, it's almost like flying. Your heart is racing but there's this sense of freedom in it, it's why people go sky diving, why the bat jumps from rooftop to rooftop. There is no feeling like that empty free fall, you're terrified and elated all at once. You feel everything and nothing and you never want it to end."

"You remember falling?" she mumbled quietly.

"Yes, I do. I remember dying and being born again."

She kept quiet after that.

"You wouldn't think hitting liquid would hurt so much but it does, especially when you're not prepared for it, from that height, it jars your whole body, your head looses the ability to think straight but that wasn't anything. The pain there is no feeling like that pain. Nothing else could hurt you once you've felt that burning sensation eating away at your clothes, seeping into every pore. Into your eyes and burning your corneas."

He let his head fall back and he breathed in heavily.

"You can't breath when your under that stuff, I can't tell you how long I was under, long enough for that to get in my lungs, down my throat, burning all the way down into my insides. When I broke the surface, that first breath, I've never imagined that breathing could be so, magnificent. When I opened my eyes I saw the world for the first time, I saw the world for what it is, there was this white liquid pouring off me and the color I'd had before, it was gone and replaced by this."

He motioned to his arms.

"There's this second of disorientation, you don't really know what's going on but what do you expect after something like that. You're naked in that vat of green chemicals, reborn, remade and your past starts slipping away from you. At least for me it did."

"Mr J?" she asked leaning in a little. "Is it... is it possible that you wanted to forget?"

He looked over to her, the atmosphere in the room still present, nothing broken, she was there with him and he smiled at her.

"Maybe, maybe I wanted to forget whatever past I was running from. Maybe there was nothing there for me, maybe there was too much for me."

They stayed silent for a long time, just feeding on the thick fog of emotions and Harley saw a new color appear from him but she couldn't quite name it.

He got up and walked towards her, she didn't move, just stared at him with her eyelids half closed, fluttering.

He could hurt her, he could kill her, it only took seconds to do it and the guards couldn't stop him in time but all he did was reach over her and grabbed the remote from the arm of her armchair.

Going back to his seat, turning on the TV and going through the channels.

"Mr J?" she asked after they'd sat there watching a show for a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what doc?"

"For trusting me." she paused for a moment then smiled. "Hey, knock knock."

He glanced in her direction, seeing that little smile. "Who's there?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Orange."

"Orange who."

She paused and showed him her teeth.

"Aren't you glad I didn't say banana?"

J blinked at her a few times before he started to laugh, throwing his head back and wiping away the wetness from his eyes as he laughed harder.

His laugh was infectious and she didn't stop the fits of her own laughter.

"That was pathetic doc." He breathed after a while. He leaned forward and motioned with his hand, muting the TV. "Let me tell you a real joke."

"I'm all ears Mr J." she said with a tight feeling in her gut. She didn't understand what that feeling was but she didn't want it to ever go away.

A/N Yay, another story updated. Phew, getting sick is a bummer as I said in chaos. Okay so yay we're getting a little further in their relationship. This is actually a difficult stage to write because it's those early stages of their interactions. Where he really feels no emotional attachment for her and because I'm writing her as a much more realistic character, she's only just starting to feel something. Not love but, something. It's a very complicated thing to make interesting but hopefully you guys are enjoying it. Okay so for you who read chaos and want to know. This story is gonna go allt he way to her arrest, yes it is going to cover all the years they were together. Since I started the story with her being transported to Belle Reve.

A question was asked a few chapters ago, I feel I need to answer it. Why I don't think Harley and Ivy would make a good romantic couple. You guys may not agree with me on it but here we go.

So I have no issue with the girl on girl thing, I could probably write something about it and it be fine but here is the thing. In my opinion, if we're looking at the original Harley. It's still an abusive relationship. Maybe not physical but still abusive because Ivy in the series does want harley to change her mindset to match hers. It might not seem so bad but you look at the persona harley has, she made that persona for the Joker, she put a costume ont eh real woman, the stronger, willful, highly intelligent creature who nearly took Batman down several times on her own. Harley would unfortunately get bored too easy with Ivy if she was allowed to be that strong with her. You can see more evidence of that in the movie, Assault on arkham. Yeah she's still abused but she's not the full out doormat, she shows her mind. She fucks deadshot as part of a plan to get JOKER out of Arkham, you see that the secodn he's out, the mask comes off and the real harley steps out and fall back into his presence. Suicide squad the movie shows the fully evolved harley, real life Harley who is not the doormat, she's not the dumb side kick either. She's his queen, she's strong, she's confident and fully in control of her own madness. I don't believe the dynamic for a relationship with Ivy can work anymore, now she's too strong for a woman like Ivy and not in the feminist way. In the I will and can do as I please and no one, not even my puddin can stop me. The thing about relationships is this, no matter the gender, if the chemistry and dynamic don't work. You've got nothing. Besides have you guys seen how jealous Joker is, do you guys seriously think he gives a damn what gender someone is? No one touches his queen, no one. She is his and because he is the kidn of man he is, there is no attraction for anyone else. So, no sharing.

You guys may not agree but that's fine. Anyway, I love you all. Thank you as always for the support. Please, please, please keep sending your reviews, I love them so much and they sometimes help the inspiration process. "blows you kisses." Love you all.

PS to my friends whos english is not that great, never worry about it, I do not mind in the very lease.


	8. Your own personal legend

A/N So got big news, I have a beta now. "drum rolls" May I introduce to you the person who has so graciously offered to make sure the ride runs smoothl. NIA. Please pray for her, she's going to need all your prayers if you guys have seen my grammar. She has alreadyd one an amazing job on this chapter. Musical offers for chapter are Heathens from the movie and funny enough, towards the end of the chapter. Kiss by a rose by seal.

Enjoy.

Chapter 8 -Your own personal legend.

He sat in his cell with his back against the wall. He could sit on his cot but he preferred reading on the floor, the light hit just right at all times so he didn't have to focus on anything else.

Harley had brought him a new book to read, it was written in the eighties.

She'd tried to scratch off the fact that she'd bought it at a second hand shop but he saw the edges of the label.

The girl was frugal.

He flipped another page, actually enjoying the book. He'd have to get this one when he got out, first edition of course. Probably not easy to find, but not impossible. He didn't even care that it was in Portuguese originally, he just wanted to own it.

He could read this a few times before he needed to let go of it, start on another one.

Harley kept him entertained as always. She had a talent for it. She was a performer at heart; someone who played to a crowd just like he did, except that there was not so much darkness in those blue eyes. Only a glimmer of it, only flecks.

He read a paragraph in his book and stopped reading, looking it over a few times, re-reading it and smiling at the quote. Oh, he liked this little piece right here.

"And when you want something, the universe conspires to help you achieve it."

Wasn't that the honest to god truth?

Oh, he definitely had to have the original now, just for that little quote right there. Who cared that the protagonist was some poor Shepard on his own personal journey? It was a story that everyone and anyone could relate to, even himself.

His own personal legend.

Oh and he was a legend, after all.

In here, out there, everywhere his name was renowned and feared.

He might even keep this little copy when he left, which he hoped was sooner than later, but… Well, Harley was a harder nut to crack than he'd anticipated. He wasn't that angry about it. If she kept bringing him stuff like this, he could afford to be patient.

 _And the universe conspires._

What he'd wanted more than anything was to get out of here and lo and behold, the universe sends him a princess disguised as a beggar to free him. She didn't know it yet, but she would. That would be her personal story, her personal legend.

"You never disappoint, do you Harley?" He mumbled to himself as he flipped to the next page. A guard walked by but noticed that he was reading and didn't speak to him. He just kept walking, confused to see the notorious Joker so calm, so enthralled.

J rubbed his temple, chasing away the headache that he'd been developing today, still focusing on the pages of the book.

Downstairs, Harley was in her office. She was flipping through her own book, something different, another book she'd picked up at the second hand store and planned to give him once she was done with it. She hadn't intended to go into the shop, yet something had caught her eye and it had been this book sitting in the window. She'd picked it up and felt that she had to read it, then seen a few others by the same author.

Maybe it was the title. When you see the words "decide" and "die" on the cover of a book it's bound to get your attention, but she'd really felt drawn to the book and now that she was busy reading it, she couldn't put it down.

It spoke to her in a way few books did, not that Harley called herself a book worm. She'd never liked the stereotype. It made you sound like you were this mousy little creature who didn't know how to live, who just kept their nose stuck in books and studied and had no clue what the word fun was.

That was not the case, at least not for her.

Fun and life meant something to her, even if she'd spent so long with her nose in the books.

The main character was fascinating, extreme. To want to die with your whole life practically perfect, what would that feel like, what would that look like?

 _What would my life look like if it were perfect?_

She had a hard time conjuring the images up.

She supposed that her father would still be alive in that perfect little life, somewhere happy, somewhere nice, her parents never divorced. Her brother might be living in his own house with a full time job, Jenny and Nikki living with him, both children happy and healthy with a father who knew how to love them. She'd be successful, she'd be...

There was where the images faded. She could so easily imagine a perfect life for them, but for her there was just a blank.

Mr J would like the book. It was set mostly in a mental hospital. He'd find it ironic and slightly morbid and interesting; he'd say she had a wicked sense of humor.

This one she'd get back from him. This one she had to get back, she want to re-read it.

Harley put the book down for a minute and closed her eyes, thinking back to their session from today.

They'd had their long session, the full hour instead of the two halves that were scheduled for the other two days in the week.

" _So let's get the obvious question out of the way, Mr J. How was your day yesterday?" She asked with a smile._

 _He grinned at her, exposing his silvered teeth._

" _You ask me that every session, Dr Quinzel. You expecting a different answer?"_

 _She shook her head. "No, not particularly, but I have to ask. Policy."_

" _Policy is something I never think of when I think of you, doc," he teased. "As rumor has it, you are the 'princess' of breaking the rules."_

 _She smiled and leaned back in her chair. "I don't break the rules, I only bend them."_

" _Oh, bending the rules. I wonder how far it would take before you snapped them in two."_

" _You'd be surprised how bendy I can be, Mr J." She brushed back some strands of hair and looked down at the book she'd brought for him. "I brought you something to read."_

" _Ah, a new addition to my growing library. How thoughtful. What's this one?"_

" _You'll like it, though you may have read it already."_

" _Try me."_

" _It's called The Alchemist."_

" _You're in luck, I've never read it," he said coolly. Then he grinned conspiratorially. "Funny joke though, doc."_

 _She frowned. "Joke?"_

" _An alchemist is a special sort of word, it's a medieval scientist, a person who dabbles in black arts." He grinned smugly._

" _Are you suggesting I think of you as an alchemist?"_

" _Oh, no, no, no." Joker shook his head. "I don't believe in that sort of crap, magic and such, but science, well. Among other things that I can claim, that is definitely one of the things I excel at."_

" _So you're a scientist and a doctor?" she smiled, shaking her head in amusement._

" _I am. I'm a doctor, a scientist, a business man. Even a philanthropist."_

 _Harley couldn't help herself, she started to laugh. Her eyes closed as her body shook at the last word. "I'm sorry Mr J but I can't see it."_

" _What, you don't think I'm the kind of man who likes to help people?"_

" _No." She smiled with the threads of her laughter. "Not because I don't think you're not capable of doing something like that but because I've never seen you try."_

" _Ah but that's the thing about doing a good deed, Dr Quinzel. It's only a good deed if it's done in secret."_

" _So you advertise all your bad deeds and hide all your good?" She arched an eyebrow. "That's… Different."_

" _No, just fact. There is a difference. Anyone who does something good isn't really doing good if they need recognition."_

" _That goes against everything you stand for doesn't it?"_

" _Didn't know you read my manifesto, considering I haven't written one." he teased and she blushed, realizing that she'd just made a very large assumption about him. "You honestly think I have an agenda?"_

 _Agenda?_

 _Of anyone in the world, this man had no agenda. He made plans, woven in such a way that no one understood them until it was too late, but he had no agenda. Not a real one._

 _He did as he pleased just for the sake of doing it._

 _People died for his pleasure, destroyed his own businesses. She'd read so much about him. He'd burned down one of his own clubs in a temper tantrum and then rebuilt it just because he could._

 _He let people live just to see what they did later on, so why should it be so crazy to think that he might actually do good, just because he could?_

" _So, since this is confidential, mind telling me something good you've done?"_

 _He stared at her carefully. She didn't believe him fully. She doubted him and he thought it was funny, because for once he wasn't making it up. He meant it, he funded things that didn't involve destruction. Why? Because he fucking could. Because it was funny, amusing._

 _Because it was unexpected._

 _He made a humming sound and relaxed himself into the metal chair, adjusting his arms in his straitjacket._

" _Come on. You've told me awful things you've done, to men, to women, even children but you can't tell me a good thing you've done?"_

" _Hmm, well I can't have you thinking I'm soft now, can I?"_

" _I would never think you're soft." She said leaning forward._

" _Well can't have something for nothing, doc."_

" _How is that fair?" she said, pointing her pen at him. "This is still a therapy session, Mr J and, well, to be honest we don't get a lot of actual therapy done."_

" _I know, isn't it great?" he grinned._

" _So when I get fired will you at least get me good references?" she gave him a crooked smile._

" _I'll do one better, doc. I'll hire you."_

" _Very funny, Mr J."_

" _Who's kidding around? I mean it. I could use a gal like you in my operations."_

" _Oh, and what would I be in your operations, the official criminal psychiatrist?"_

" _Well, that could be one of your duties. I mean like you said, I've done some awful things in my time. I'm sure some of the boys need a shoulder to cry on, though I think I could find something more suitable."_

" _What's wrong with what I do?"_

" _You're not living up to your full potential. Really, is that what you want to be? Is this the only thing you want for yourself?"_

" _No, I want more from my personal legend." she admitted quietly. "This is, well, it's a starting point for me."_

 _He grinned. "That's a word. Personal legend."_

" _Does it bother you?" she rested her chin on the backs of her hands._

" _Not at all doc, I like it. Personal legend."_

" _What's your personal legend, what is it you want out of life?"_

" _What do I want out of life?" he asked with a pondering sigh. "See, you keep asking me questions that require a give and take doll face, you want these answers, I want the same in return."_

" _That's not how this works, Mr J"_

" _Oh, it is." He smirked. "Come on princess, you run this room, you run this floor. The guards do as you say, your superiors don't question your methods-"_

" _They do," she corrected._

" _Do you still get to do them?"_

 _She hesitated but shook the feeling off quickly. "Yeah."_

" _Then your superiors let you do as you please and, well, you're the most entertaining shrink I've had."_

" _So what are you saying, Mr J?"_

" _I'm saying, Dr Quinzel, that you're more than capable of making up your own rules, honey."_

" _So you want me to make the rules so you can change them for me?" She smiled feeling amused with his obvious attempts to manipulate her._

" _Tell me part of you isn't interested. You want to see the roots of my tree Dr Quinzel? Well, they're buried deep. Very, very deep. So far down that even I have to dig to get to them. You want to see them, then you need to do some digging. You need to get dirty, honey, because that's the only way you're going to see who I am, what I am."_

 _Harley's heart started racing faster. Isn't that what she wanted, really? Why she wanted to meet him?_

 _The thought was there every session, the why, the what, and he always kept it away from her. Always kept it at bay behind the many mirrors of his fun house._

 _ **Get dirty, doc.**_ _He thought to himself._ _ **Let's see how deep down my rabbit hole you're willing to go with me.**_

" _Okay, fine," she relented casually. "What do you want to know?"_

 _He grinned triumphantly and cocked his head to the side. "Well, not counting my special card, the question with no holds back, I suppose we should go with the fair route. Wouldn't want to overload you so quickly."_

" _Believe me Mr J, I can handle anything you can dish."_

 _ **Oh, I like that idea. I can dish a lot.**_

" _Well, what's something bad you've done that no one knows about?" he asked. A counter to her earlier question._

 _ **Something bad, oh god, he had to ask that?**_

 _She'd done something terrible, something utterly unforgivable._

 _She couldn't tell him that. She could never tell anyone._

 _They'd played this form of the game before, a play for a play and it never ended badly. She never gave him anything too deep and he didn't lie to her, but this, this was too much for her. She couldn't relive that, she couldn't give him that piece of her._

 _That knife that she kept pressed deep into her back, holding her together, holding her sanity, her guilt, everything that made right and wrong what it was. Because without it, she thought she'd completely loose the ability to remember what those things meant._

 _She'd..._

 _ **No, don't even think about it.**_

 _J watched the internal struggle, her face stayed so passive but those eyes told a story. He watched as those sky blue irises dilated and clouded into the depths of her memory. How they shifted from left to right, how they darkened with the pupil as she fought the urge to even bring it up, to remember it._

 _ **Oh honey, what did you do? Oh tell me, tell me Harley, tell daddy what terrible thing you did that makes your eyes look so beautiful.**_

" _I can't really think of anything." she lied quietly._

" _Oh now I seriously don't believe that," he purred, still seeing those beautiful eyes, still seeing the dark memory betraying her, changing the way he looked at her. "Never done anything wrong?"_

 _Sighing, she put her pen down. "I once got high on this stuff and, I don't remember what I did."_

 _Not what she was thinking about but he could tell she was being honest. "That's it?"_

" _I woke up in a jail cell." she said flatly. "Charges were assault, theft and resisting arrest but they were dropped."_

 _He laughed at her, his face contorting into something she could believe was impressed. "Well Dr Quinzel, remind me to bring you along the next time I go on a little spree. You'd be an entertaining addition."_

" _It's not that funny," she sighed. "I gave the guy a concussion."_

" _Then why'd they let you go?"_

"' _Cause they thought the guy drugged me and that I was defending myself."_

 _This time she couldn't help but smile when he laughed._

" _Did he try to take advantage?"_

" _I honestly have no idea."_

" _See, you got away with something bad, how'd it make you feel?" His expression had gotten dangerously serious at that one but she shook her head._

" _Oh, no. You got your question, now answer mine. What's something good you've done that no one knows about?"_

 _He pouted at her but she stood firm._

" _Fine. You know, you really know how to kill a mood, doc."_

" _I've been told that before." she smirked and picked up the pen. "So, something good."_

 _He sighed and thought about it. It wasn't a huge list, but anything he told her she could verify at least in numbers as all his contributions were financial and he could give her the names of the companies he'd used for it._

" _You know that shelter down in the Bowery? The one that got all those renovations done?"_

" _Wait, that was you?" Her eyes had gone wide._

" _Yep," he confessed, no hint of embarrassment or thrill at the declaration. He'd felt nothing when he'd done it, he'd just done it and felt no positive or negative feelings for it. The only moment when he felt anything was when he got rid of some of that money, he'd done that when he'd gone through his phase of trying to get rid of all of it._

" _Everyone thinks the Wayne foundation did that. You're alright with that?"_

" _Now, now doc. You already got your first question." He smiled. "My turn."_

 _Harley blinked, still stunned that he'd made the level of donation rumored to have been invested in the building._

" _What's your personal legend?"_

The funny thing had been, neither of them had been able to answer that question.

Harley put the book down.

She sighed and pulled her hair down, running her fingers through it.

How could it have gotten so late already?

There was no way she'd get back home, she'd have to turn back around and come back in for the clinic shift.

It was the price of residency, you got the crap job.

She pulled her lab coat off and flung it carelessly on the back of her chair.

Opening the bottom drawer of her desk, pulling out the clothes she'd brought on Monday when she'd been told she'd be taking the early shift down there.

"If you didn't do that then Stevens couldn't justify paying you what he does," she muttered to herself as she stripped off.

She was half way done, slipping on the shorts she was wearing when her office phone rang.

She picked it up as she slid her jersey over her head.

"Dr Quinzel."

"Hey doc, we've got a problem up here. I don't know what's wrong with him, I just know he's asking for you."

The guard was from the rogue gallery and he didn't have to tell her who he was talking about.

"I'll be up there in a few minutes." she said quickly and hung up.

She slid on her sneakers, thinking it would be faster and grabbed her lab coat.

 _Nice look Harley, what you call it? Doctor casual?_

She jogged across the facility, ignoring the looks some of the staff gave her as they did their late night rounds.

She'd left her glasses in her office, she'd also left her hair band down there so her hair bounced around her.

 _That can't be Harleen Quinzel. That woman looks too normal, running around in sneakers, shorts and a Gotham Rogues jersey. She can't be Dr Quinzel, the Joker's personal therapist._

Security let her through easily. Obviously he hadn't tried to escape, otherwise they'd be on lock down but something was definitely wrong.

When she reached the final elevator, two guards were already waiting for her.

"He's in the medical ward," one breathed, holding something over his face. "I don't know whats wrong with him, he was fine and then he just lost it."

"Just lost it?" She frowned, not liking the sound of that. "What do you mean lost it?"

"He just started to rant, he was reading and then he snapped. He started yelling about the doc who was his before you.. Accusing them of stuff, just ranting on and on."

"He was talking about a former doctor?" She was worried now.

They'd done so many things to him, so many treatments, drug cocktails that could easily kill him, that had fucked him up.

She was honestly surprised he hadn't had a break down before this.

"Then he started asking for you. At least, I think it was for you." The guard looked nervous.

Harley finally noticed that he was bruised. His face had cuts, that's what he was trying to put pressure on.

These boys were not first shirt guard. They weren't the special ops soldiers who'd been trained to take Joker on, to take other criminals on like super heroes. This was a trained guard, less prepared for this sort of situation.

"What do you mean you think?"

"He was calling for Harley," the man said darkly. "Your name is Harleen, it's the only thing that made sense."

She was done talking.

Harley got in the elevator, not even waiting for them.

She had free reign of the rogue gallery. She didn't need them to go up there, she didn't need them.

The doors opened and she broke into a run, what the hell had happened to him? She ran the tests she needed to give him in her mind, a cat scan, make sure there wasn't any damage to his brain.

The fucking idiots who'd given him ECT could have finally gotten their way, tearing his mind to shreds. One of the medications could have left long term damage, his organs. Oh god, his liver.

She reached the other elevator and pressed down, pacing back and forward, gritting her teeth.

He needed her. She was his doctor, it was her job to take care of him, to make sure he was alright. There was a pumping in her chest that wasn't normal, it was anxiety that was more than a doctor should feel for her patient. It was stronger.

The doors finally opened and she stormed in, forcing the doors closed with her button.

 _What's wrong, Mr J?_ She asked herself, looking up at the numbers as they changed. _We're not done yet, we've still got a long way to go._

The staff was waiting for her. They looked surprised at her clothes, shocked to find her in her lab coat but that surprise changed to terror when they heard the scream that came from one of the rooms.

"HARLEY!" he screamed and Harley moved without thinking.

"Out of my way," she demanded and everyone moved.

"We tried to sedate him," one of the male nurses said. "He wouldn't allow it, maybe you could try."

"He doesn't need sedation." Harley said coldly. "Stay out here, do not come in."

"But prot-" the man stopped talking when he saw the look in her eyes, the very mad look that terrified them all.

Even Harley.

She walked in, seeing two more guards trying to hold him down, another tech trying to inject him.

"Enough," she ordered. The room stood still, the tech backed away at the sound of her voice. The guards let him go and even Mr J stopped struggling, his eyes searching for her.

"Dr Quinzel," the guard said.

"Get out," she said, pointing to the door. "Now. Everyone out."

No one argued.

Even the guards obeyed. All three men left, shutting the door behind them.

She reached back and locked it firmly. They stared at each other and she watched as his eyes went from crazed to perfectly calm, She'd seen a flicker of madness in his eyes when she'd come in but that was now gone, back under his expert control.

Conned. He'd conned them.

She breathed in calmly and walked over to his bedside.

Only one arm was strapped in and he undid it with the other one, throwing his legs over the edge of the hospital bed to face her as she sat herself in the nearby chair.

"Evening," she said, crossing her arms. "I heard you had a bit of an episode."

He said nothing, he was looking at her.

"You feeling alright, Mr J?"

Again nothing.

She sighed and rubbed her temples.

"You don't want to talk? Okay, so listen. I'm here for you, I'm here to help you. You know me well enough. I hope at least enough to let me check you over. I won't hurt you."

She meant it. She wouldn't hurt him, he was her patient. She was here to take care of him.

So why did she have the strangest urge, to reach over to him, to run her fingers through his hair and sooth him?

 _I just want to comfort him, that's all._

 _Why?_

 _Because it's the right thing to do._

She rose from her chair and pulled off her lab coat, he was glaring at it and she didn't want to agitate him.

She grabbed a stethoscope from nearby and walked right up to him, putting it to her ears.

"You mind?" she asked quietly.

He didn't move, he just watched her.

Inhaling deeply she put the stethoscope to his chest, making sure his heart rate was alright.

It was slow, very calm. Almost too calm.

She frowned and continued to listen.

"Gotham Rogues?" He finally whispered in her ear. "Didn't know you were a sports girl, Dr Quinzel."

When had he leaned in?

Harley tensed up when she felt his arm come around her waist and rest on her back.

"What are you-"

His lips attacked hers in a rough, demanding kiss that took all the oxygen from her lungs. Her eyes widened in shock but the feeling quickly melted away as his lips demanded her attention.

Pulling her closer he deepened the already intense kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring the feeling of her tongue, inviting her to make this more.

What was she doing?

She needed to push him away. She needed to get away from him, but his lips felt so good. Hot, not cold like she'd imagined. His hands were strong, pulling her in, keeping her there against him.

 _You want this,_ her mind whispered. _You've always wanted this._

 _What? A mass murdering clown with a god complex to kiss me?_

 _No, someone strong enough to pull you in,_ her mind breathed as he pulled away. _Someone who sees you and wants you._

She tried to catch her breath. Her lips felt bruised, tingling with fire.

This was wrong. This wasn't right, but the feeling on her lips and in the pit of her stomach was such a new feeling, crazy and addictive. Someone had just pumped her full of some drug that got you hooked after one drop and she wanted more of it,.

He was breathing harshly, his hands still around her waist, his eyes full of lust, something darker in them. She felt high looking at him, high and suddenly following the rabbit down the rabbit hole.

She didn't care.

Harley grabbed his face in her hands and attacked his lips, her mouth seeking to make the kiss as rough and passionate as he'd made it.

He showed no surprise, he showed no shock to her response, only eagerness as he crushed her against him.

He wasn't close enough, oh god in heaven why wasn't he close enough?

Everything was in the way. She let go of his face, her mouth still exploring his, pulling the stethoscope off her ears and letting it fall with a clang to the ground.

His own hands weren't idle, he went straight for the hem of her jersey, going under it to find the fabric of her shorts. She gasped into his mouth as she shoved them down, her jersey just long enough to keep her covered.

She knew exactly what he wanted from her and she couldn't deny that she wanted it too.

His power radiated off him, the same power she felt in his presence but tonight it was all aimed in her direction, every ounce of it and it had the power to devour her whole. She wanted the lion to devour her, she wanted to be taken, dominated, owned.

She would never admit it aloud to anyone. She didn't have to with him, he knew. He already knew what was inside of her and he wanted to dominate her, to make her his.

It was like starving. With each kiss she felt like a desert and he was the storm that promised life. Unexpected, so long forgotten and her initial fascination with him felt like a front, like all this time she'd been denying the truth, that she'd been denying the fact that this was what she'd always wanted from him.

Harley moved, taking off her shoes and letting her shorts kick under the bed. She climbed up onto his lap, grateful that she'd stripped her underwear off before getting changed.

J's hands moved from her back to her thighs, growling in pleasure before moving back onto the bed, pulling her with him so that he could move his own clothes around.

They kept quiet, both aware that there was a team of medical staff and guards waiting for her to come out, waiting for any sound that would send them into a panic. They couldn't be interrupted, he'd kill someone if they were. She had to admit, she might kill someone too.

He gripped her hips with his fingers, his nails digging into her skin, probably leaving crescent moon indents but it felt so good. She wanted to feel like she was drowning, not dying of thirst. She was impatient, her own madness that she kept hidden away so close to her chest suddenly revealed to him like an open book.

Everything she'd done, everything that was a sin that should mark her unfit to be his doctor but instead a fellow patient.

He wasn't gentle when he pulled her down but her lust was as dark as his, it took everything she had not to cry out when he moved inside of her.

He never let her look away from him, and when she looked like she was going to make a sound he crushed her lips to his and swallowed it up.

Her hands were recklessly touching him, running through his hair, going down the back of his neck, tugging at his clothes.

Harley's phone started to ring.

She ignored it. She was too distracted by him, the pleasure he gave her only intensified by the way his hands gripped her, scratching her, dragging against her nerves and setting them on fire.

He moved her, she had no control of their movements and she let him have that power, she let him control it all, all she cared about was finding that ultimate pleasure, that ultimate sensation of power that he offered.

Her phone rang again, louder this time.

"Don't answer that," he ordered angrily as he moved her faster. "You'll stay with me."

"Yes," she gasped but the ringing seemed to get louder and louder, more insistent.

Wait, she hadn't brought her phone with her.

"Stay with me," he growled into her ear, but the sound of the ringing was pulling her attention away from him.

No, she didn't want to get distracted. She didn't want to loose this moment and if she answered the phone, the phone that wasn't here, she'd loose the pleasure.

Her eyes snapped open with a start.

She sat up in her office. She'd fallen asleep at her desk and her cell phone was going off.

Oh god, it'd been a dream.

Oh god, she'd dreamt about...

She answered her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beautiful," a familiar voice said. "I was worried I wouldn't catch you."

"Hunter, hey," she breathed in relief, terrified that it'd been upstairs.

"So I'm in town for a few days and I was hoping that we could meet up."

She opened her mouth to say no; she was too busy, she was focused on her research, on her patients. On her very important patient.

No. She couldn't, she could not be attracted to him. That was a death sentence, that was crazy.

"Harley?" Hunter asked after she hadn't answered him.

"You know what Hunter, I've got a free day on Friday. Do you want to meet up for dinner?"

"Absolutely." he said with a relieved sigh. "There's this amazing place I found. I'll pick you up around six?"

"Perfect. I can't wait to see you," she lied and hung up, slamming her phone down.

She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Harley, you can't be sexually attracted to the Joker. You cannot be attracted to the Joker."

The problem was, she wasn't really convincing herself.

 _You are loosing your mind Harley, if you ever had it to begin with._

 _A/N I know, I know, I'm awful but hey at least you got a little sex in there. Sorry Harley! Oh, if you read chaos then you guys will know what's coming, "smiles sweetly" so I would like to thank Nia again, she did an amazing job with the beta work, it's not easy betaing me. It might mean a bit of a change int eh schedule but we'll work it out. She's pretty quick._

 _Anyway, fan girl moment. The extended version is coming, the extended version is coming and I was like OH NO, ALL THE STUFF I WROTE IS GOING TO BE WRONG BUT... well it's my own universe so it can be wrong. Still. Yay, it's coming out and it's gonna be more Joker and Harley. Yay._

 _Anyway, please review, I love them so much when you do. Thank you so much for all your support as always, thank you for takign the time to read this story. I know the origins stories can pile up and you think, uh I've read them all but I'm glad you guys enjoy my work. Love you all. See ya next chapter._


	9. Red and black

Chapter 9 – Red and black.

Harley stared at herself in the mirror, smiling back at the full length reflection of the woman who would never be called Dr. Quinzel or Harleen.

She took a deep breath and touched her fingers to the mirror as if caressing the woman on the other side of it.

It wasn't often that Harley got to be just Harley.

Tonight would be that night, for a few hours at least she'd escape it all. The asylum, the doctors, Daniel, Stevens, and _him._

Her smile faded a little at the very mention of him. She didn't want to but it bothered her to think of him.

Ever since the other day when she'd... No, she couldn't think about that.

 _You dreamed of him like that because he represents all the dark things, the guilty pleasures in the world. Ever since you took his case you've denied yourself the pleasure of just having fun. It's almost like you forgot what fun is. Going out with someone, enjoying their company for a while. Taking advantage of their bodies and then leaving._

Was that fun?

She'd thought it was, dressing up and making her date swoon just at the sight of her, men and women alike. To enjoy herself, to be swept off of her feet for a while. To be promised the world even though she had no intentions of being there the next day.

It was petty and shallow but Harley wasn't the settling kind of girl. She wanted something that she couldn't have. She wanted something real, something that meant everything. Something that didn't exist.

Not now, not ever.

" _Hi, I'm Guy."_

" _Your parents actually named you Guy?"_

" _Well, it's something else but Guy is less embarrassing."_

" _So you're the man with no name?"_

" _That's one way to put it. What's your name?"_

" _Harley, my name is Harley."_

" _Like the bike."_

" _Yeah, like the bike."_

The smile faded into a frown at the memory. No, not even that had been real.

 _Love means everything. It's not meant for me._ She thought, looking down at the floor before pushing all of the negative thoughts away.

No, tonight she would not think about Guy and his strange name or the Joker with his nonexistent name or anything else that would bring her down. Tonight she was going out with a great looking guy who was pretty damn good in bed and treated her like a princess.

 _Is that the reason for the fuck me dress?_ She felt a part of her question.

She smirked, looking back at her reflection. The dress definitely wasn't anything close to conservative. It was short, climbing up the smooth creamy skin of her thighs, and was cut low on her cleavage.

It was bright red, the fabric so smooth and it clung to her like a glove.

A find that she felt was meant for her.

It'd just sat there, hidden away in between hundred of other dresses, still had the tags on it. Whoever bought it originally had obviously changed their mind about it and instead of going back to exchange it, which is what no rich people did, they'd given it to this place that sold gently used clothes.

It was one of her favorite colors and had an amazing pattern on it. Not quite vines, more of a diamond design that covered the right side of the dress.

"Harlequin," she smiled as she looked down at the pattern. It wasn't exactly the pattern of harlequin diamonds but it was close enough if you looked at it the right way.

She'd found shoes to go with it at the same place. The woman behind the counter had arched an eyebrow at her and asked if she could handle them. Harley had only laughed at her as she paid for everything.

A dress that cost at least two hundred dollars at a shop only cost her twenty dollars there, shoes that could easily cost a few hundreds cost her fifty.

A few pieces of costume jewelry and Harley felt like she could breath.

She'd curled her blonde hair, it lay in rings of golden strands and accented her perfectly done makeup.

No, no one would think she was a doctor tonight.

Especially not him.

"Stop thinking about him," she scolded herself as she pulled out her black coat. "Tonight is about forgetting him."

That was so much easier to say than do.

He was a very hard man to forget, after all.

For the past three months they'd played their game of therapy and though she felt she wasn't actually curing him, she felt like she was helping him.

A little, at least.

He hadn't been happy when she'd told him they wouldn't see each other today.

She hoped he was acting upset and wasn't really displeased with her for it. She was alright with him feeling nothing.

But then again, maybe she wasn't alright with it.

 _The clicking of her heels was met with a sing-song voice._

" _Click, click, click," he sang from his cell. "I hear the pitter patter of a young doctor's shoes."_

 _She came to stand in front of his glass door, a smile on her face as she looked in, trying to act like she wasn't suddenly completely uncomfortable around him._

" _Hi," she said and crossed her arms across her chest casually._

 _He was laying in his cot, his hands behind his head, staring back at her with a quizzical expression._

" _Afternoon. Is it Friday already? Huh, you'd think I'd remember that."_

" _It's Thursday," she acknowledged._

 _Sitting up he grinned, "Ah, good. I was worried I'd lost a day somewhere, which could be consider worrisome."_

" _I have something to tell you," she said carefully._

" _Ah! They've approved my early release and you've stamped my clean bill of mental health. I'm a free man," he declared with fake pleasure._

 _She couldn't help herself. Lowering her head, she hid her smile but her shoulders shook as she laughed._

" _I guess not," he sighed, rising from his cell to walk over to her. "So are we having an impromptu session today, doc? Can't wait till tomorrow?"_

 _He purred at her in a conspiratorial whisper, as if pleased by the idea of her unable to stay away._

" _Afraid not, Mr. J." She looked up at him. God, he was so close. The only thing keeping him from being closer was the glass of his cell._

" _Oh, then what is it, doc?" He lowered his voice. "Has one of my loved ones come to see me? You know, some of the gallery get the opportunity to see theirs, if they're very, very good."_

 _In all his time here, no one had ever come to see him. He was right. If someone in the gallery did have family, they had the same rights as any of the others in the other wards. Granted few had family, fewer wanted visitors but if they behaved very well, they got the rare chance._

" _No Mr. J, not that either."_

" _Damn, and here I was hoping I would get to see someone who cared. Oh well, I have you."_

" _That's just it, I won't be here tomorrow."_

" _What?" His eyes flew up to hers. They didn't look bright with teasing anymore, they looked somewhat serious._

" _I am off tomorrow, all day," she said flatly._

" _Off?" He said the word as if she'd just cursed and he needed to get some soap. "Off, off... off."_

" _Yes, off. It's my day off," she repeated patiently. "I'll make it up next week."_

" _Off." He turned away from her, repeating the word over and over again._

" _It's just tomorrow," she repeated and shifted in her spot. "If I don't take tomorrow I'll be working two weeks with no break and I'll end up sleeping during our sessions again."_

" _Off."_

" _Mr. J," she said with a firmer tone. "You'll be fine."_

" _Says you." She watched as he crossed his own arms, pouting, almost childlike._

 _She sighed and looked away for a second. "If I don't take it, I'll get in trouble."_

" _Oh, why's that?"_

" _Labor laws," she explained but really, even she didn't believe that._

" _Oh, labor laws?" He quirked his head almost comically to the side and stepped towards her._

" _I've got too many hours, I'm into my overtime. They don't look kindly on that." It wasn't a lie. Stevens had mentioned it when he'd given her the roster for the next two weeks. Something about having to take vacation time soon, or she'd loose them._

" _Oh, trouble. The princess of trouble doesn't want to get into trouble?" he mocked and she saw that spark of dangerous venom in his eyes._

" _No one wants to pay these days," she said with a shrug. "I work down in the clinic a lot, they don't want to loose that."_

" _So they don't wanna pay, huh?" he mused her questioningly. "I could pay ya."_

" _You?" she frowned. "You want to pay me to be your therapist?"_

 _He tilted his head back and laughed._

" _No, no, no. To come in tomorrow," he grinned and she shook her head with a soft laugh._

" _You want me to come in tomorrow? Mr. J, if this is about the privileges you get when I come and see you I can make sure that you get-"_

" _Oh, couldn't care less about getting an extra shower or eating outside of this cell. I want to spend time with you," he said, cutting her off._

 _She blinked at him several times. "Time with me?"_

" _Is that so hard to believe, doc? You're the only thing that brightens my day around this place. Jimmy and the boys are great, but they so rarely stop to talk long enough to get the juices in my brain flowing. You— you're an excellent companion, you know just how to talk to me and I'm never bored."_

" _Mr. J…" She couldn't help the blush. It was a compliment, there was no doubt about that but for him to say it like that, to just... did he mean it?_

" _Come on, Dr. Quinzel, you really going to miss out on our sessions? I promise to tell you something intimately personal."_

" _Bribery will not get you anywhere with me, Mr. J," she said and leaned up against the other wall, away from him. Images of her dream invaded her mind as she spoke to him. Images that were pleasant, that were more than pleasant; exciting, sensual, and being near him didn't make them go away._

" _Come on, doc. You gonna fail your favorite patient?"_

 _A part of her wanted to come in, wanted to spend time with him, find out more about him. After all, she'd waited so long to meet him, hadn't she?_

" _I'll make it up next week, we'll have a double session."_

" _But that doesn't help me tomorrow," he whined as if he was a little boy, even going as far as stomping his foot down._

" _And you would have been just fine if I hadn't come in today."_

" _That's a treat," he countered. "Tomorrow is the full meal."_

 _She felt a little guilty. She was after all feeding him, bringing him food and adding supplements into it._

" _I'll buy you something from whatever place you like," she found herself promising. "Next week, Monday."_

" _Now who's bribing?" he teased and she managed to smile._

" _I didn't have to tell you, you know that right?"_

" _Hmm, except you know that keeping me out of the loop would be a very... hazardous idea."_

" _You think I'm afraid of you, Mr. J? Didn't we go through that one already?"_

 _He laughed at her, leaning forward so his damaged tattoo pressed against the glass._

" _Fear is so overrated, Dr. Quinzel. You don't think that maybe I want something other than fear?"_

" _Terror?" she quirked._

" _Oh, nice word, terror. What other words can we come up with? Petrified? Horrified, dread, alarmed, distressed..."_

" _Mr. J..."_

" _I don't want your fear, Dr. Quinzel..."_

" _Then what is it you want?"_

" _Can't you guess?" He grinned at her._

" _Nope, I can't think of a thing you could want from little old me," she said, coming a little closer._

" _Really, can't figure out what I want?" He purred, his hand beckoning her closer._

" _Nope," she said with a hint of amusement. She knew what he wanted, really how could she not know what he wanted._

 _He made it clear every session, he did not want to be here. He wanted to be gone from here and he wanted her to help him._

 _The thing was, she didn't want to help him leave, she wanted him to stay._

" _I gotta go, Mr. J," she said, genuinely saddened to have to leave. Damn it, what the hell was wrong with her?_

" _Stay," he urged. "Stay with me."_

" _I can't," she whispered._

 _She couldn't stay, it was too close to her dream. It was too much of a temptation._

" _You want to stay?"_

" _That isn't a fair question, Mr. J," she accused and he sneered._

" _Did I say anything about fair?"_

" _No, nothing about fair. But really, you can't ask me that." Because I might be honest._

 _He grinned at her. "You like my company."_

" _Well you're an interesting guy Mr. J, that is common knowledge." She moved in, so that the glass was the only thing again. "It's my job to help you and I like my job. I'd like to keep it, so I can keep helping you."_

" _All that for little old me and you can't figure out what I want from you?"_

" _Don't you know? I'm just a silly little blonde girl who likes to play with lions' tails." She didn't know why she said it, why she'd just challenged him like that._

 _He smirked at her and she heard the hint of a growl, a purr like growl that made her spine shiver._

" _Nothing wrong with that, doc. Nothing wrong with that at all."_

She sat on the edge of her bed, strapping her heels more securely, wishing she could stop thinking about him.

Wishing she could stop the pounding in her chest.

"You're only attracted to him because you spend so much time with him. You'll be fine once you go out with Hunter. You'll remember that there are normal men out there, that you can be with a normal guy for a weekend and then go back to work and be just fine. You won't even remember feeling sexually attracted to him at all."

The sad thing was, she almost convinced herself.

She looked at the clock. She needed to leave.

Hunter would pick her up at the train station soon. He had no clue where she lived. That was a rule, she never let her dates know where she lived. Ever.

They knew her phone number but no address, no dropping her off at her door. Nothing so personal.

It kept things from getting personal.

If Harley couldn't have the real thing, true love that was unbreakable, then she wouldn't settle.

Settling would only cause more disaster.

She grabbed her black bag, her date kit all packed inside. It was something she'd learned in college. Something she'd over heard from some of the other girls. They'd even had a sort of seminar on the subject, things that were a must to avoid the obvious walk of shame.

She'd sat through it. She'd listened to the women who spoke, confident women who spoke of not being ashamed for enjoying sex, for enjoying expressing their sexuality.

" _We're not our mothers, our grandmothers. We've spent years being taught that abstinence is the only way to go, wait till we get married, but let's be honest. How many of us in this room alone are virgins? If that's your choice then I respect it, and please don't think that I'm advertising being easy, but there is nothing wrong with enjoying sex. Nothing wrong with enjoying being with a person, but let's face it. No one wants to make the dreaded walk of shame."_

101 safe sex, how to carry everything and not look weird with an overgrown bag. The must haves for any woman so she didn't become a statistic and still could enjoy herself.

Harley had paid attention, some of it was a little much but most of it was practical.

Travel size everything, cash, cell phone, a travel bag sized vacuum bag for all your clothes. Slip on shoes like ballet shoes that rolled up.

Sounded crazy but she never went on a date without it, even when she had no plans to sleep with them. It was out of habit.

Locking her door, Harley made her way out of her building, shivering. God, it was getting colder already.

She was dreading this winter.

She ignored the looks she got as she walked down the street. She could imagine what she looked like, her makeup glimmering, her heels clicking loudly on the cement of the pavement, her legs covered in goosebumps.

Her phone started to ring. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Hunter.

"Hey," she said with a smile.

"Hey, I'm heading out right now. You sure you don't want me to pick you up at your place?"

"No, I'm heading that way myself. I'll be waiting for you."

"Great, I can't wait to see you."

She smiled and hung up.

What would he think of how she looked?

Harley breathed in and walked into the station.

 _Can't even admit Hunter isn't the man you dressed up like this for_ , her mind chided.

 _It doesn't matter. It's hunter I'm going to go see_ , she retorted, allowing herself the guilty pleasure of talking to herself.

She would not think of Arkham tonight. She would not think of the rogue gallery, the extreme criminals who lived up there and she would not think of her only real patient. Not tonight.

It was her night off, after all.

Back in Arkham someone was thinking of her, though.

J sat on his cot, his back pressed against the wall with his head slightly bent, his shoulders hunched and his forearms resting on his bent knees.

In his hands was a book that he was reading again, the latest one that Harley had brought him.

Such a sweetheart to care so much, he mused to himself with amusement as he flipped another page. She really does care.

It was funny. Not in his normal sort of funny where people ended up with missing limbs but funny in a more ironic sort of way.

The same thing that made her weak, so useful to him was the same thing that made her so infuriatingly difficult.

She wanted to help him. She wanted to make him better, but she didn't believe his condition was a mental sickness. Everything she did was so... random.

He had to admit, if others were more like her he might be more willing to participate.

He'd expected to see her today, for her to be more defiant of her bosses and come in anyway, take him into a session room and sit with him unofficially, making some attempt at a joke when it came to him paying her but she hadn't.

Seemed the person she wanted to defy was him.

He'd thought he was further along with her. He'd thought he had her more hooked, but it seemed that the good little doctor had a stronger will than he'd anticipated.

It was frustrating. It made his escape dates more unpredictable but it was curious, too.

Most doctors broke by now. Most of them were begging to be transferred, the stronger ones were showing signs of defeat but Harley was a curiosity all her own.

She was wearing down. She was tired, exhausted, but it had nothing to do with him.

That was somewhat depressing. He affected her but not enough, not in fear or even intimidation.

She respected him, she enjoyed his company. Begrudgingly he had to admit that he enjoyed hers, too.

The world was full of idiots, stupid people who followed masses, even gangsters were guilty of this. He dealt with so many of them, even in his own men. Sure they were good for a job, excellent killers with ruthless attitudes but very few of them could sit with him and have a decent conversation, argue with him without flinching when he flared up.

Really if he thought about it, only Jonny was as fearless as she was.

Normally he wouldn't care, but in this place it amplified things.

The thing he found most hilarious about this whole thing was the fact he wasn't actually angry at her defiance. It was impressive that she stood up to him. True, it was through glass but he got the impression that just maybe, she'd still be strong enough to face him without the separation.

 _I wonder_ , he thought to himself.

Routine was in play right now. She'd kept her word. He got a shower and ate down in the cafeteria this morning but this afternoon dinner would be through a slot in his cell.

He needed to rattle the good doctor, he needed to push his schedule a bit. If he didn't he'd be here through to next year.

He would not spend New Years here again, it was boring and he missed out on the opportunity of wreaking havoc on the city as the year closed.

So how did he go about this? He'd thought about it since she left yesterday, still a plan didn't seem to want to conjure itself.

If she wasn't in the building, he couldn't just request for her to come over.

She wasn't magically going to show up, though it would be incredibly considerate of her to change her mind and prove that she was completely under his spell.

No, if she'd done that she would have shown up during regular hours.

So what did that leave him?

Emergencies.

The only reason they'd call her in is if he had a major emergency.

It couldn't be something small or they'd call in the on call doc or send someone down from the clinic.

That place was a joke but he did understand its use.

With so many mentally unstable criminals in the place, you did get lots of injuries.

No, it had to be something incredibly bad for them to call her in.

Something that wasn't a physical injury, something that only she could deal with.

He grinned and put the book down, laying back on his cot.

He had several options to choose from.

What would scare the living day lights out of them to call her?

The guards and staff on this side had the power to get in contact with her directly. After all, she was the Joker's official doctor and all that jazz.

He started running down potential options, what was most believable, what wouldn't be taken as a tantrum.

Suicide attempt? Nah, they wouldn't go for that.

This crew of guards weren't as quick as the morning boys. They weren't the slackers of the third shift either, but it still it had to be believable or they'd just leave him in the cell to choke on his own vomit.

He grinned as he remembered something, something that had happened a few years ago.

He'd had a nasty reaction to a medication, the stupid nurse at the time had given him the wrong pills and it'd made him absolutely crazy. Not his brand of crazy, the real deal.

Hollering, completely lost in his own head, shaking violently, the walls shimmering like some dimensional vortex.

It hadn't been the best of experiences and that particular nurse was now resting in Gotham Cemetery along with her whole family, but it gave him an idea.

It would mean waiting until later, his medication would come after he ate and he could easily pretend to have gotten the wrong pill.

That would most definitely get her over here in a hurry.

And oh did she want to get there in a hurry.

"I'm so sorry about this, Harley," Hunter said for the fifth time.

"It's alright, it's not your fault," she said as they waited for their table.

They'd mistaken the reservation, put it in for tomorrow and not today.

So their table didn't exist and she couldn't come back tomorrow, she was on call.

Harley didn't know it but there was a reason for the mess up. No, the restaurant hadn't mislabeled the reservation at all but there comes a price when the Joker is part of your world, when he's so closely tied to you as he was right now to her.

No it was not Hunter's fault, it was Harley's.

J owned several businesses, restaurants included and this happened to be one of the places his second in command had acquired for him. On paper someone else owned it but it was most definitely his.

Every person who worked for the Joker, whether it was a dealer on the street corner or the waiters of this restaurant knew who Harleen Quinzel was.

Granted, the picture they'd seen was a far cry from the goddess who'd stepped into their midst. Still they knew her, the boss's doctor.

The woman who could not be touched. She was to be left be, unspoiled by any hand except the Joker's.

The minute the Joker sent word to Jonny that this woman was the key to his freedom she'd been watched as closely as possible, which wasn't easy.

The woman kept her secrets. She was nearly impossible to follow when she rode her bike but after the last three months, the man who Joker trusted almost blindly found her location, the place she lived, the places she frequented.

He was slowly discovering bits and pieces of her story, as colorful as it was, but still he didn't have enough to go and send to his boss.

Wasn't it ironic that tonight she'd show up here, that her first real encounter with them all was as the glowing vixen in a red dress and not the doctor.

What would J think if he saw her like that?

No man ignored her, even ones with dates.

Even Jonny who was in another room couldn't help but stare at her. What was she?

She couldn't be the woman in the photos who was that stereotypical stuck up professional woman who both denied you and tempted you at the same time. This woman was vibrant, exposed like a open wire, sparks flying everywhere as she sat in the front lobby waiting patiently with a man who seemed ordinary.

Harley wasn't as patient as she looked. It was cold and every time the door opened, the wind blew across her legs.

"We could go somewhere else," she heard Hunter say but she shook her head.

"No, it's alright. We wouldn't get anywhere else either."

He sighed and gave her a sweet smile. "I am sorry, I wanted you to have a good time with me."

"I am having a good time." She smiled but the truth was, she was already bored.

He'd talked about work, he was an investor and did a lot of traveling around the world. He spoke of the places he'd been in the past few months. Paris, Madrid, London, Sydney, and she could barely contain the yawn that wanted to escape.

He'd seemed so interesting last time she'd been with him.

He'd spoken about places he'd gone to, she'd been hooked on every word. Exotic lands that he enjoyed, the cultures he saw and all those things interested her but now... it just felt... dull.

Their reservation was at six thirty but they'd been waiting here for almost two hours. It was going on eight twenty now.

"Sir, a table's opened up. I do apologize for the wait," the host said politely and they were led to a small, intimate table.

If Harley had known what her current position was with these people she just might have commented on the fact that they were doing a pretty poor job of keeping her happy, but she wouldn't have known that the security cameras were rolling, that they were recording everything they could about her, finding out who the guy was before they let them sit down.

"Maybe you should go talk to her, boss," one of Jonny's boys said from behind the glass. "Make her an offer to get the big boss out."

"J doesn't want it done that way," Jonny said smoothly. "He wants to break her himself."

"Can't blame him," the man said, leering at Harley as her date helped her into her seat. "Never known J to set his eyes on a girl before but damn, he picked a fine specimen."

Jonny knew better than to comment. The woman was probably destined for the morgue or the nut house herself after J was done with her.

They had no clue what J wanted with her.

Harley just couldn't escape him, something about this place just reminded her of him. She couldn't place the why, it just did.

Still, it was nice. The waiter was courteous, he brought them free drinks as an apology for the wait.

She was starving.

For the next forty minutes Hunter talked, they brought them their appetizers fast enough but their dinner was taking forever.

Harley was half tempted to call for a pizza.

 _Mr. J would find that funny._

 _God, stop thinking about him, you're here with Hunter._

 _Hunter. Boring, predicable Hunter._

 _You'd think with a name like his, he'd be more exciting._

At nine fifteen they finally brought their food. More apologies, something about an issue in the kitchen, someone had cut themselves badly and had to be rushed to the hospital.

She dug in, ignoring her date as she ate.

So far, any chances of her spending the night at Hunter's hotel were dying quickly.

It was sort of funny how people changed your perspective of things.

Before meeting the Joker, she'd thought someone like this man really was interesting and now, she couldn't find a single thing to say about him that would make him seem entertaining.

Maybe because he seemed so self involved. He was happier talking about his own life than actually conversing with her, interacting with her.

She was half way through her dinner when her cell phone started to ring.

She felt it vibrating in her coat.

"Sorry Hunter, let me get this," she said apologetically.

She saw the name on the screen. Arkham Asylum.

She frowned. Why would Arkham be calling her tonight? She wasn't on call.

"Dr. Quinzel speaking," She answered in a calm voice. "Doc this is Peter, head of security in the rogue gallery. We have a serious problem."

Her whole body tensed up, her free hand gripping her fork.

"What's wrong?"

"I have no clue. Joker's having a fit. I think maybe someone gave him the wrong medication or something. He's lost it. We've got him down in infirmary but he's still screaming at the top of his lungs. They can't sedate him either, we have no clue what he got."

Her heart started to race, her mouth went dry and she let go of the fork.

"I'll be there immediately. Do not give him anything until we know what's wrong. Stabilize him as best you can," she ordered and was already getting up.

"Yes ma'am. Also..."

"What?" she asked, throwing her coat on.

"He's asking for you."

A feeling of dread came over her, a flash of memory that slammed into her stomach like a ton of bricks.

"He's what?"

"He's asking for his doctor," the man said hesitantly. "I'm sorry doctor Quinzel but we really need you here."

"I'm on my way."

She hung up and looked over at Hunter. "I am so sorry. There's an emergency at work."

"No, I understand." He got up, too. "Do you want me to drive you there?"

"No, no." She shook her head. "I'll get a cab. It was great seeing you."

She didn't wait to get his farewell. She grabbed her bag and somehow ran out of the restaurant, hailing the first cab she could get.

What the hell was he doing?

J was hamming it up, royally.

He thrashed around in his restraints. He screamed so loud that he could still hear his fellow inmates roaring in a mixture of glee and outrage at his outburst.

When the nurse tried to inject him with something he leaned into his ear and started talking. The guards were too busy upstairs, having left him with only two and the staff.

"I need a message out to Frost," he muttered, stopping the man in his tracks.

"What?" he whispered back in a hurried way, pretending that he was having trouble sticking him with the needle for the IV.

"Get word to my boy," he whispered, pretending to struggle against them.

The nurse didn't reply but his answer came when he gave up trying to put the IV in.

"He's moving around too much, I can't get it in. Where's Quinzel?"

The main guard came in. "She's on her way."

 _Oh goodie, she was coming. Wonder what she does on her off days?_

Harley was frustrated, the damn cab driver took all the longest roads.

She paid him at the entrance of Arkham and muttered an insincere thanks.

She half jogged across the front lawn in her shoes. Her very awkward shoes that were meant for a date, not for sprints into work.

"Freezing," she muttered. "I'll kill them, I'll kill him."

Her frustration was starting to build into panic, into anger.

Who the hell had given him the wrong meds? Why the hell did he have to do this to her today?

Why the hell was she so happy they'd called?

She swiped her ID and started down the long hall of the institution, grateful that at this hour the staff was minimal and the patients were all tucked in their beds.

"Damn it," she muttered, knowing she'd have to go all the way to the third floor at this hour to get security access tot he gallery.

The looks she got from security and the staff when she got up there would have been priceless if she wasn't in a hurry.

Harley nearly tripped getting on the elevator, leaning against the wall and growling to herself. All she could think about was that dream, how this reality was worse.

"I need to be dreaming," she told herself. "I have to be."

But she wasn't.

The elevator opened and she made her way down the security corridors to the final gate.

She didn't even stop, she just got into the elevator and rode up, not even phased by the looks the men gave her.

"Damn it, J," she said to herself quietly. "What are you doing?"

A/N So yay. Nia is back from vacation, yay. So sorry this took so long to post. She actually got it edited on Friday but we had a little issue with the transferring but hey it's up. Ah, you guys know what's coming if you read chaos. So definitely watch out for that chapter. This week is thanksgiving for the states so updating might not happen till later on this week.

Okay, so here is the deal with chaos. I know I need to update it and I will. I swear it's just. Sickness, fevers, flu have been going around and well I had a very serious transition issue. I know what I wanted to write, just not quite sure how to write it. Sort of got that figured out. Also working on the arc for Life and Destruction has kept me busy but do not fear. It's in the works.

So I got the extended cut of suicide Squad. I was happy that it flowed a lot better, the ECT scene didn't mess up my version of it in chaos I can so work with it. The scene where she chases him on the bike well. You guys read my version, I am happy that well. Granted it's way off in a lot of ways but still had the same feeling to it. I was overall pleased with the extended cut except for one thing. Not enough extended, those few precious scenes did help in my opinion but they should have done so much more with it. So much more that could have been added that would have pleased a lot of people.

I mean superman vs Batman had half an hour extended version and it changed the movie but we get like fifteen minutes extra? Come on Warner bro's. You're killing us. Anyway, was still great.

Doesn't really ruin my continuity either lol.

So anyway, thank you all for your support, your love, your obsession, your demands and of course your reviews which are the life blood of this writer. I love you all, I thank you all for everything and please, come back for another dose of chaos and mayhem, it's gonna be awesomely good.


	10. The Loss of Sanitas

Chapter 10 – The Loss of Sanitas

What was he up to?

Harley thought this over and over again as she made her way down the rogue gallery.

She avoided the main areas, the cells and the common area, sticking to the treatment halls and the offices where the files were kept.

The last thing she needed was to rile up the patients up here.

By the sounds of it, they were already riled up enough.

What had he done to cause such chaos?

The papers had it wrong, hell even she'd misjudged his talent for chaos. They all assumed he'd toned down over the years but this little display proved he was still capable of causing a scene.

In a place like this where the patients were violent and their brands of illness and conditions were unique, chaos was a very dangerous thing, as dangerous as routine could be.

It bothered her that she'd come running to him.

This was obviously a ploy. How could it not be? It was too perfect a set up and she knew it. That he'd have an emergency that required her to personally come in on the night she had off? Yeah, maybe no one else might see that as something to be suspicious about but she saw it with red flags and flashing lights.

He was punishing her.

He was punishing her for missing their session together, he was punishing her for defying him.

Defiance, a thing he couldn't stand from anyone but in this place was forced to endure.

It was credit to his ability that he hadn't cracked under the pressure of it all. A man who loved to be in control, a man who was accustomed to having the world bow at his feet, having to obey. Yeah, she wasn't awfully surprised that he was taking it out on her.

She had defied him, she'd chosen herself over him and he was going to make that point clear to her.

Still, knowing that, she'd come.

Because there was the slightest chance that it wasn't a game, that he was really in trouble and her heart raced in panic at the thought of it.

It shouldn't, it couldn't but the idea that he could be hurt scared her.

Harley felt like he had a rope and it was wrapped around her waist, she felt like he was pulling it and dragging her towards him.

There was a mixture of dread and excitement at the feeling. Dread because she should be the one in control and excitement because it did something for her.

He was a ball of unpredictability and she found herself drawn to that. He was everything the world told her she should never want or think of, that she should help him reform and desire a real life.

She finally made it to the elevator and punched in the security code, pressing her thumb to the pad to scan her fingerprint.

The doors opened and she walked in, tightening her coat around herself.

How dare he, how dare he do this to her? It didn't matter that her date was going poorly, it didn't matter that it was cold and she'd rather be warm in bed. It didn't matter that she was utterly bored with the man who should have become her lover tonight.

It wasn't his place to tamper with the world outside.

With her world.

She was his doctor, nothing else.

 _Who are you trying to tell?_ Her mind taunted. _Him or yourself?_

Her nostrils flared in agitation, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right.

Who did he think he was?

Did he honestly believe that she didn't know what he was playing at?

How dare he try to punish her for living her life!

He'd better be sick down there or she'd show him.

The elevator reopened and she stepped out into the medical ward.

The guards were waiting for her in the hall that led to the rooms and she stormed up to them.

"Where is he?"

A guard whose name she didn't know pointed towards the end of the hall and she handed him her bag, knowing she shouldn't take it in.

She walked towards the only occupied room, opening the glass door that separated the elevator from the ward and the sound of her heels alerted anyone that she was coming.

Even down here you could hear the roaring and agitation of the patients upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, Harley let her face relax and she pushed all her anger down to her stomach.

She entered the room, finding several other guards and the medical staff surrounding him.

Joker strapped to the bed, violently struggling until he looked up and saw her.

They were all staring at her like she'd grown a second head. Even the nurses looked dazed by the change.

Harley wasn't exactly the most conventional of doctors here, she wore skirts instead of slacks and heels instead of comfortable shoes, she didn't even wear scrubs which would have made more sense to some of them but tonight, if they'd expected Dr. Harleen Quinzel to show up, they were quite mistaken. Dr. Harley Quinn was the current resident here and as she saw her patient, her feelings jumbled up all over again.

The dream, her anger, her want, desire to punch him in that face and then live out that fantasy.

Because one thing was clear, he was staring at her and somehow, she knew he liked it.

"Okay, Mr. J," she said, holding back all her emotion, trying to bring up the professional voice she used here. "Let's see what's going on."

She walked in and ignored everyone's looks, especially his. She grabbed a stethoscope and walked to stand beside his bed.

She checked his eyes, his mouth, flashing that bright light at him but both seemed normal. When she listened to his heart she noticed a slight irregularity. It made her frown but it was definitely not worthy of his apparent psychotic break.

She turned to the nurses and guards.

"Are you sure his medication wasn't changed?"

"We triple checked it, we gave him the right medication, doctor Quinzel," the head nurse said defensively.

She sighed and rubbed her head, of course he was alright. She'd come running but he was just fine.

She looked back up and gave them all a reassuring smile.

"Can you give us a minute?" she knew she was pushing her luck, it was against policy to have someone as dangerous as Joker alone with anyone, also she was a female doctor and he was a male patient.

People assumed that the rule only applied for male doctors and female patients but it was upheld here both ways.

No one moved, she didn't expect them to though, she was asking them to break the rules for her.

"Just a few minutes," she reassured them again. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Everyone looked at each other and she was sure they'd tell her no, that she'd have to wait until Monday to give him an earful but one by one, they left the room.

The guards leaving last, they kept glancing back at them, from him on the bed to her.

She walked up behind them and locked the door, turning to look at him laying there on the bed all innocent, as if he'd done nothing. The problem was, he'd done too much.

Old feelings bubbled to the surface, old things she'd thought she'd buried melding into new things, gurgling in the pit of her stomach as he continued to stare at her.

The thing that was saddest, she wanted him to stare and that only pissed her off.

She dropped the doctor facade and relaxed her shoulders, feeling safe in the room. He could kill her but she had a feeling he wouldn't, he could do something bad to her but she got the feeling again that he wouldn't. His eyes were hungry but not for blood and it took every ounce of her will power to keep from jumping on the bed to offer it up to him.

 _God, what's wrong with me?_

In the animal kingdom, animals chose mates who could provide them the best genetic material, the strongest, the most cunning and the ones who could provide and protect.

She'd always believed that humans still followed a similar path, they just dampened it under social cues and civilization.

People pretended that they weren't animals. The truth being they were the worst sort of animal.

Right now, she felt like she was the same kind of animal he was and that he... could provide and protect, that he was the perfect genetic match for her.

That raw part of her brain could almost imagine children with him and she had to push that right out of her mind, push it so far away that it stopped existing.

He was no one's genetic match and she wasn't so primal.

"So, you wanna tell me what's going on, Mr. J?" she finally asked him.

She moved away from the door but kept her distance, aware of her own flaws, her own vulnerabilities.

He was still dangerous and she had to play this very carefully. He could believe he was the one playing around but she wasn't going to allow him to walk right over her whenever he wanted.

"Just had a meltdown, Dr. Quinzel," he actually managed to pull off sounding innocent, even a little helpless but she wasn't going to fall for it. His eyes were still as sharp as ever and they never left her.

She felt that irritation in her again, that anger. It wasn't fair. She'd worked so hard, she'd pushed herself so damn hard and sacrificed so much to be here, to be in Arkham. Some might think it was a shit hole and maybe in a lot of ways it was, but it was the best start you could have, it was the best way to become what she wanted to be and he'd been...

He'd been the focus of her college life. He'd been the focus of her studies because he could explain so much for so many, because he was chaos and...

She moved up to him when she saw him twitching, his wrists moving ever so slightly to remove his restraints.

No, this game was over.

"Don' give me that. What you trying to prove?"

"Not trying to prove anything," he said, his struggle with his restraint more than obvious to her now.

Harley wasn't really in control of herself when she grabbed his arm and pulled the restraint so it released, she reached over and undid the other one. Leaving them both exposed, both alone and unprotected from each other.

He might think she couldn't be dangerous, but she wasn't as innocent as he wanted to believe.

"Don' play with me, Mr. J," she gritted out, throwing the strap aside. "It's been a long night and I don' have the patience for it right now."

It was honest, she really didn't have the patience for it right now but it wasn't because of anything other than her own jumbled thoughts.

She felt her heart pulsing, her mind working against her and that strange dark curiosity leaked itself down her neck and along her spine.

Like invisible blood oozing to grip at her.

Though she was in control, a part of her was busy wondering what it would feel like to have his hands all over her, touching her, if his lips tasted like they did in her dream and worse... if he could drive her body insane like he had in her fantasy.

"You look beautiful." He said, sitting up and rubbing his wrists. His eyes still focused on her, the storm of gray and blue making her feel cold.

She crossed her arms, just to have something to do with them and she shook her head. A silent refusal to give into him.

She couldn't give into him, if she did she'd become lost in a world that she didn't quite understand.

"You think flatterin' me is gonna do anything for you? I'm not stupid."

But maybe she was stupid, she'd let him go. He could hurt her and maybe part of her wanted him to. A sick urge in her own mind to feel his hands cause her pain because maybe somehow, pain was more real than the rest of the world.

 _I came here for him. I came to meet him of all people because he's chaos, because he can understand it like no one else can. But I can't fall for it. I can't fall into the chaos, I'll never come out._

"You undid my restraints," he countered her argument and he wasn't wrong. "Some might think that isn't very bright."

She started feeling impatient with him, she felt hollow in some places and on overdrive in others. Her legs hurt from standing in those shoes but there was a growing fire in her lower belly. "Why'd you want me in here?"

 _To kill me?_

"Did I disturb a date?" His tone was teasing and Harley felt another shiver run through her at the sound, it was false, it meant nothing to him but there was something about it that made you want to believe he was capable of it.

"As a matter of fact, you did," she bit her lip and looked away, feeling embarrassed at what she'd planned to do tonight. "Not that you interrupted much."

The night had been a complete disaster, after all.

"Bad date then, doctor?" he asked, regarding her differently now. She noticed it from the corner of her eye and she couldn't help but think it was funny. He noticed things most people just couldn't but so did she and a hint of jealousy was in those eyes now, in the corner of his mouth.

"You could say that."

There was this moment of silence, tension in the room where his eyes roamed her body. She felt exposed and desired, because his eyes spoke volumes as he explored her.

There was this sense of a silent conversation happening in the air but she couldn't quite catch what it was saying.

She tensed up when his hand reached out and tugged at her coat.

No, he'd never tried to touch her before and that had been alright. Distance was important, distance was everything.

She struggled against him but that voice in the back of her head told her to stop fighting it, to stop because she deserved to see what she'd done to herself, for him, that this dress, these shoes and everything else was for him.

She held her breath as the coat fell to the ground, exposing the expanse of flesh that the dress did not cover, revealing the sexual predator she could be when she wanted to.

There was a thickness in the air, she felt warm, too warm and she watched as his fingers touched her shoulder.

She had to fight the urge to gasp out, the way his fingers felt was nothing like she'd expected.

They were soft, smooth, not rough and gritty but still strong.

Very, very strong muscles lay under those hands and as he used them to explore her arm, she had to resist every urge inside of her.

 _What's wrong with me?_ This couldn't be happening but it was and she couldn't think straight.

"Were you looking to get lucky, Dr. Quinzel?" his voice was a rich silken purr that made her knees buckle a little.

"What makes you think that?" She looked down at his hand, it felt so good. She didn't want to admit it but his hands on her skin felt so very good and her levels of control started to slowly slip. Something else pushing up to the surface, something unhinged, something dangerously dark.

"Well, you got all dressed up for me."

That was a harder thing to process, he'd said it so coolly, casually, seductively.

The truth, in all its shameful glory.

Yes, she'd dressed like this for him. She could deny it until she turned blue but there it was and he'd called her on it.

It made her feel vulnerable, it made her feel weak. She covered herself in order to protect herself from him and moved away. They couldn't touch. It was too much for her, too dangerous for both of them.

"I told you, I was on a date. And no, I wasn't looking to get lucky," she lied flat out to him. He couldn't know the truth of her plans, of her intentions. About how she'd planned to use a man who was genuinely attracted to her for sex to relieve the sexual tension and ache that was caused by the green haired villain sitting in front of her.

She sighed, feeling exhausted with all of this. "I had to take a cab in the middle of dinner to get here. It's cold out there and it's my one night off."

"Like I said, doctor. Had a bit of a meltdown."

He laid back and the sight of him lying there like he didn't have a care in the world just angered her so much. It pissed her off that he was so alright with this, so pissed off that she wanted him, wanted him to touch her, to want her too.

She reacted without thinking again and she was on him, her hands holding his shoulders down with strength she didn't think she had.

"Listen to me, Mr. J. Listen good," she snapped with no care at all. She was done pretending. She was done pretending with _him_. "I don' know what game you think you're playing, but it ain't gonna work. I'm going to help you, whether you like it or not. I'm going to get through to you. I'm not going anywhere."

She meant every word. She wanted to help him. She wanted to get through to him, save him. God, she was crazy but she wanted to save him. She wanted to help heal his mind a little, so he could sleep better, so he could be at peace.

If she could save him, maybe she could save herself.

 _But you don't want to be saved. You don't wanna save him, either. You want him to devour you, you want to devour him._

He said nothing, he just stared at her with the eyes of a man who was starving. Did he even realize what he was doing? Had he ever looked at anyone with that sort of hunger?

"Did you hear me?" She whispered, feeling torn between lust and violence, she hadn't felt this in a very long time.

The silence that existed after that was thick with an animal desire between them. She could let him go but she didn't want to and neither did he. She knew that much, she could feel it.

Her eyes screamed at him, _take me, want me, have me._

She didn't care how sick it was anymore.

"Oh, I heard ya," he purred lustfully, his arms moving as he spoke, "And good."

He pulled her down and she went without a fight, her lips seeking his long before he captured her lips for a deep, hungry passionate kiss.

He felt so good, so desperately good.

He sought to deepen the kiss and her tongue wrapped around his, becoming liquid fire.

His hands were all over her and her grip on his shoulders tightened. The strength of his hands taking her in. Her whole body felt hot now, like he was an infection and he was causing a fever in her.

It wasn't just physical, though. It felt deeper than that. Stronger, electric.

Her heart raced in her chest and she didn't want it to ever stop.

The heat pooled down her body, at the base of her spine, between her legs and before she knew it, she was completely pressed against him.

He could do what he wanted with her. He could have her, take her then discard her and she'd be happy. No man had ever kissed her like this before. They kissed until they couldn't breath, their lungs tightening and hurting. the pain snapping her back into reality. She broke the kiss and backed away from him. Inwardly shocked at her behavior.

Oh god, what had she just done?

She wiped her mouth in a panic and then reached out and wiped his, getting her lipstick off his lips.

She swallowed and turned to the door, convinced someone was standing there, staring at her with gaping mouths as she nearly climbed into bed with the Joker, the prince of crime.

Harley grabbed her coat, her hands shaking.

"That never happened." she gasped breathlessly. She grabbed his straps and restrained him again, tightening them so he couldn't get loose. "It never happened."

Harley had to fight the high, the euphoric sensation. Her lips tingled and she backed away, she wanted to go back to kiss him again. She wanted to untie him again, to go further than just a kiss.

She fixed the hem of her dress and glanced back at him, he was grinning, his smile menacing but still hungry. She unlocked the door, poking her head out and trying not to look guilty.

"I want to keep him overnight," she explained to the guards. "You can collect him in the morning, should give you a chance to calm everyone else up there."

"Yes, ma'am."

She heard him laughing from behind her, he was enjoying himself now. Whatever he'd wanted, he'd gotten it and she'd given it freely.

A part of her felt broken, like she couldn't put the piece he'd taken back the way it fit before.

She felt tugged and pulled. The right and the wrong.

Which was the truth, she wasn't sure.

His kiss had felt so right, yet it was so very wrong.

She looked at the guard who was still holding her bag. She held her hand out.

"Can I have that back?"

"Ma'am..."

She smiled at him as best she could.

"Don't worry, I've got no weapons and you can have my cell phone," she stepped away from the door, away from his laughter and took the bag. Pulling the small device out and tucking the bag over her shoulder.

"I thought... you would want to head home," the guard mumbled, trying not to stare.

"I work tomorrow, there isn't any point in me going home. Besides, I think he needs to be observed."

She managed to look displeased with the idea of spending the night down there, but she couldn't bring herself to leave just yet.

She wanted to be with him, even if it was wrong.

 _I'm crazy,_ she thought as she smiled.

No one stopped her as she walked back in, they were all too stunned and besides, she didn't shut the door.

Joker stared at her curiously as she pulled the chair up and sat herself down, crossing one of her smooth long legs over the other with her bag now dropped to the ground.

"Back for more?" he purred in a whisper.

"You're staying here tonight," she told him in a low voice. "I'm staying here to make sure you keep out of trouble."

He grinned at her slyly. "Wanna come up here, keep me company? I can keep you warm."

Harley's cheeks turned a bright red and she looked away from him.

He laughed again but he kept staring at her legs.

The jealousy he'd felt earlier was gone. He had her, he knew it. She was fighting it but he had her.

Just a little more pushing and she'd help him do anything.

She was strong, stronger than most and that made her harder to crack but he'd made his first real break in her glass.

His lips tasted her still, she tasted good to him and the smell of her perfume lingered in his nose. Sweet and subtle.

"You don't look comfortable, doctor Quinzel."

"Mm hm," she rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms over herself

"So, we're having a little sleep over?"

"Call it what you like," she breathed and smiled at the orderly who came in to bring her a more comfortable chair.

The look on his face was one of awe and amazement. She was probably their hero right now.

Brave doctor Quinzel, staying the night with the big bad Joker.

"Thank you," she said politely and changed seats, getting adjusted and relaxing her shoulders.

"I could get used to this."

"What?" she asked dryly.

"Having you sleeping with me," he used his words carefully and she quirked a smile, letting a small choked giggle come out.

"That's... bad," she managed and looked away.

He licked his lips and relaxed on his bed. The hospital bed was much more comfortable than his cot upstairs.

"So how bad was the date?" he purred curiously. "Where'd he take you?"

"We're not friends, Mr. J," she said, trying to pretend they hadn't just made out.

"No? No, you're right. I don't have any friends that I would—"

"Don't," she warned. "That was a lapse of judgment on both our parts."

"My judgment wasn't lapsing, doc," he admitted and she blushed again.

"Well, mine..."

"Wasn't," he sang cheerfully. The orderly had closed the door. "You enjoyed it, admit it."

"Not admitting anything," she muttered and grabbed a mint out of her bag. "Here."

She reached up and let him have one of the mints. He took it and planted a kiss on her palm as she pulled it away.

"I do enjoy the way you taste."

She didn't answer him, she looked down to hide the color of her skin, to hide the smile.

"So, date..."

"Bad," she said softly. "Very bad."

"Oh, blind date?"

"'No, seen him before," she still wouldn't look at him.

"And..."

"He's... boring," she bit her lip, she shouldn't be telling him anything but obviously she figured this was going to be a one night occurrence.

"They messed up our reservations."

"Oh, where'd ya go? You should have told me, I could have pulled some strings," he teased and she threw him a dirty look.

"A new restaurant," she explained. "He had a reservation but they lost it when we got there."

He grinned, having to keep from laughing.

He owned that place, Jonny bought it for him before he'd gotten moved to Arkham again.

He had to smile, though.

"Tough break, kitten, though at least your night hasn't been a complete disaster."

"Hasn't?" she raised an eyebrow. "You call this going well?"

"Well, if I can get you into my bed tonight I call it a great date," he joked, halfway. He actually wouldn't mind her crawling into bed with him. He'd enjoyed the softness of her skin, the way she kissed him, the eagerness of her body to contort to his. "Granted it's not the date you started off with, but hopefully I'm a better substitute."

"Funny," she said sarcastically and covered her legs a bit more. "Don't get arrogant, Mr. J, we both know what you're trying to pull."

"What am I trying to pull, princess?"

"I'm not going to fall for it, you're not going to manipulate me."

Too late.

"Oh, I'd never dream of doing that, doctor Quinzel," he said as sincerely as possible.

"Sure."

He grinned.

Tonight had been an incredibly good night. She'd come running, he'd gotten a very hot make out session out of the deal and best, she was spending the night. Progress was good.

What would she say if she knew the truth?

What would she say if she knew that he'd had more to do with her bad night than just throwing his little tantrum?

She'd probably freak out.

 _Jimmy held the phone for him as he was brought into the small office. There was nothing in there but a desk and a chair, nothing for him to do any damage with._

" _Ten minutes, J," he explained, handing the phone to the man. "Then you and your lawyer have to call it a day."_

" _Thanks, Jimmy boy," he said and watched as the guards left the room._

" _Mr. Arrons, such a pleasure to hear from you."_

" _Mr. J," the voice of his lawyer said casually back. "I'm sorry to have to run, I'm late for an appointment but I'll be leaving you with my associate. I think you've worked with him several times before."_

" _Of course, I understand. My best to the wife and kids."_

" _Nice talking to you, boss," the man said and the phone was handed off._

" _Jonny boy," J said keeping his voice casual. "Is that really you?"_

" _Yeah boss, I'm here," the cool collected sound of Frost's voice made J grin, such a creature of irony to have a name like that and be as cool as he was._

" _Good, I have some work for you."_

" _Whatever you need."_

" _Find out everything you can about a doctor Harleen Quinzel."_

" _Harleen Quinzel. They give you a woman?"_

" _Oh yes, a very young, blonde woman who is the key to our affairs."_

" _Understood. Do I need to pull her?"_

" _No, no, no Jonny, this little lady is mine. You leave her to me and you warn the boys, no one touches her. If she's spoiled in any way whatsoever they will deal with me."_

" _Understood. So what do I need to find?"_

" _Everything. Every dirty little secret she's got. Her past, her present, everything. Leave nothing unturned."_

" _Got it, boss."_

" _Oh, and if she happens to find herself in one of our businesses, make sure she's treated... special."_

 _Frost managed a sneering laugh, as close to laughing as the man did unless he was in a highly stressed situation. "You got it, boss. We'll make sure she's taken care of."_

" _Excellent. She's the key, Jonny boy. Make sure you don't lose her."_

When he turned to look at her, he found her asleep. She was cold, her head leaned against the back of the chair, her legs instinctively curling up so she looked like a real kitten taking a nap. He growled and she shivered in response to it.

He had power over her, he could feel it, he liked it and it wouldn't take much more to get what he wanted.

Jonny knew what had to happen now. He needed something else, something that would finish her off, push her off the final edge.

He wondered what had her looking so unsettled, what dark little dreams were bubbling up in her twisted mind.

Because she was twisted, somewhere in there existed a very chaotic creature just aching to come out and play.

She was hiding something. He knew it, the way he watched her sleep. Something so intimate to watch someone do.

There was something she was hiding from him, from everyone and he got the feeling that the secret would break her into shattered pieces.

Her secret would reveal something that he was already sure of.

Harley was just like him.

A/N Okay,more sorry's. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I already apologized in chaos but I figure more apologies are needed.

If you haven't read the update for chaos yet, here is the thing. I got sick really bad over thanksgiving, it lasted a while. Then my computer did something awful and I lost a whole bunch of projects, including updates for chaos and Monsters and performers. So I had to do rewrites, which can be so stressful cause you don't remember everythign you were going for. This chapter was especially hard cause I had to stay in line with the chapter in Chaos that is the other side of this moment between them. So yeah, then Nia had a sick baby to take care of but amazingly she edited this chapter in a day. So yays for her there. She's awesome. Hopefully we'll have a more scheduled thing going soon. It's the holiday season, that doesn't make thigns easier sadly. Still working on it.

So they finally kissed, yay. Hopefully it didn't feel like a complete repeat of Positions, the chapter in chaos. I wanted to give you guys a in depth look at everythign that happened instead of the more flashback version.

I actually liked the idea that Joker has a much tighter grip of her life than she realizes. It felt like something he'd do. What you all think.

Well I will beg now, since I know you guys have been so patient. Please review, please please please. Lol.

Anyway, I will update soon. Promise. Love you all, thank you for sticking with me and thank you for all your love and support.

Cya.


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